Reminiscences of a ranger : or, early times in Southern California

1Y MA j. Ho RACE BELL

University of California • Berkeley

Gift of

PHILA ROGERS & LINDA COSKI
in memory of their father
HOWARD WILLOUGHBY

BANCROFT LIBRARY

REMINISCENCES

-OF A-

RANGER

-OR,—

EARLY TIMES

-IN —

SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA,

By MAJOE HORACE BELL.

LOS ANGELES:

YARNELL, CAYSTILE & MATKE8, PUINTEK8.

1881.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1881, by

HORACE BELL,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.

Bancroft Library

TO THE FKW

SURVIVING MEMBERS

OV THE

LOS ANGELES RANGERS,

AND TO THE MEMOHY OP THOSE WHO HAVE ANSWERED TO THE

LAST ROLL-CALL,

THIS HUMBLE TRIBUTE IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY
JHE AUTHOR.

PREFACE.

No country or section during the first decade following the
conquest of California, has been more prolific of adventure
than our own bright and beautiful land ; and to rescue from
threatened oblivion the incidents herein related, and either oc-
curring under the personal observation of the author, or related
to him on the ground by the actors therein, and to give place
on the page of history to the names of brave and worthy men
who figured in the stirring events of the times referred to, as
well as to portray pioneer life as it then existed, not only among
the American pioneers, but also the California Spaniards, the
author sends forth his book of Reminiscences, trusting that
its many imperfections may be charitably scrutinized by a crit-
icising public, and that the honesty of purpose with which it is
written will be duly appreciated.

H. B.

NOTE.

The word "Registrar" used instead of Register in Chap. VI
must be charged to the printers and not the author.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

The Sea Bird — Arrival at San Pedro— The two Captains Haley — Pio-
neer Staging — Sailor Stage Drivers — Banning — " Let Her Drive " —
Stage Race and High Betting — Arrival at the Angels — The Bella
Union and its Guests — The First Vigilance Committee — The Seven
Wise Men ef the Angels — Their Inquisitorial Torture — They Find
the Assassin of Gen. Bean and Hang an Innocent Man — Joaquin
Murietta — Zapatero, the Tejon Chief — The El Dorado — Aleck Gib-
son's — Nigger Alley and Gambling— Notel Characters — Crooked
Nose Smith — Cherokee Bob 17

CHAPTER II.

Ricardo Urives — He Wipes Out Jim Irvin's Party — His Encounter
with John G. Downey — A Bloody Affray in Nigger Alley— Ri-
cardo Passes in His Checks— The Black Democrat— The Court of
the Vigilance Committee — The Doomed Men — The Gallows —
Hanging Reyes Feliz, Sandoval and Three Others — The Arkansas
Man as Hangman — The Last of the First Mob — Retribution —
Fandango at the Moreno House— The Marshal — J. Thompson Bur-
rill's Court and How it Was Adjourned— Granger and Ogier — The
Mission Indians — A Slave Mart — •. 31

CHAPTER III.

More Lynching— Disgraceful Proceedings — Smith and a Mexican are
Whipped on the Plaza — Tossing a Man in a Blanket — A Broken
Neck — Even Change — Thompson Burrill and Dona Concha — A
Man Gets Married— The Hairless Dog — Jack Powers and His
Great Influence — He Defies the Law — Emigrates to Sonora and is
Murdered — Alas ! Poor Jack — Los Angeles the Hot-bed of Revolu-
tion — Castro's Pronunciamento — Micheltorena — Gringo Versus
Gringo, anJ the Great Three Days Battle of Providencia— Blood,
"God and Liberty." — Bandini's Revolution — The Founding of Los
Angeles — Navarro's Dream 50

10 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER IV.

The " Most Useful Man," and How he Played it nn Friar Juan, of Agua
Mansa — His Duel With General Magruder— Juan Largo Versus
Juan Chapo — A Wonderful Lawsuit — Myron Norton, Don Jose", and
the Mixed Jury — Cobarrubias 72

CHAPTER V.

Spanish Families— Good Society — A First-classJ Mexican Ball —
Ranchero Hospitality— Captain J. Q. A. Stanley — R, S. Den, Ban-
dini and Others— Washington's Birthday Ball in 1853— Assault and
Hard Fighting— The Dead— Myron Norton \Vounded-The Angels
on a War Footing — Andres Pico Commands the Peace — The Mis-
sion Indians Adopt Gringo Customs and Hang a Man — Mission
Squirrels Versus Mission Bells 88

CHAPTER VI.

A Grand Character — An Old-time Election in Los Angeles— Capturing
Voters, the Modus Operand! — Disguising Sovereigns — Old Payuche
-^History Repeats Itself— The Register of the Land Office Dines
Off the Nose of the U. S. District Attorney — The Judge and
the Pet Deer — Lafayette Cotton and the Register — An Overdose of
Buckshot 99

CHAPTER VII.

Joaquin Murietta and His Desperate Doings — A Reign of Terror — The
Rangers — Captain Hope and Others— The Twin Brothers, Green and
Wiley Marshall — Green's Adventures in Arizona— Death of the two
Brothers 107

CHAPTER VIII.

The Great Western Napoleon — The Grand Gringo Campaign Against
the Desert Indians — Don Benito Wilson, the Honest Indian Agent
— The Indians Steal His Horses — A Vindictive Pursuit — Don Vi-
cente de La Osa and His Reinforceinervt — The Padres of Old 118

CHAPTER IX.

The Great Ohio Mail Robber Seeks Refuge in Los Angeles and is
Arrested — The Royal Bengal Tiger — A Stir Among the Angels —
A Cool Lawyer — Fourth of July Celebration at San Pedro and
Los Angeles — Alexander & Banning— Don Juan Sepulveda and the
Patriotic Spanish-Americans — A Reminiscence by an Old Mexican
Captain — Commodore Mervine's March on Los Angeles — His Re-
pulse — Patriotic Mexicans Fire a Salute Over the Americans Killed
in the Battle— Brave Higuera — A Curious Court Scene 127

CONTENTS. 11

CHAPTER X.

The Pkuutom, Spectre, or What is It?— Great E^tampida — Excitement
Among the Vaqucros— Bill Solves the Mystery — John T. Lan fran-
co's Pioneer Sulky — A Sharp Briar and Pious Fraud — A Sermon to
the Rangers — A. Large Col lection— A Midnight Raid and Important
Capture — The Jackass Lawsuit— Drown and Thorn — " An Irishman
Can't Give Evidence in this Court" — A Test ot Blood 138

CHAPTER XI.

A Bloody Chapter — Murderers and Bandits Flee From San Luis Obispo
— The Rangers Capture the Whole Band After a Sharp Skirmish in
Bliss' Vineyard — A Female Fighter — All Taken to San Luis Obispo
and Hung — The Murder of Porter and Pursuit of Vergara — Stanley,
Banning and Winston— A Hide for Life — Hand to Hand Fight —
Vergara Escapes, Reaches Yuma and is Killed by the Guard —
Don Santiago Arguello— Major Heintzelman 151

CHAPTER XII.

The Murder of Jack Whaling — An Army of Fair and Frail Sisters —
Moreno's Baud — Robbery of Lelwng's House — Moreno Kills His
Comrades for Blood Money — Capture of Moreno — The Whole City
on Guard — Solomon La/.ard's Bravery — Mayor Nichol's Message-
to the Council — All is Mystery 158

CHAPTER XIII.

The Post of Jurupa— Captain Lovell— Military Discipline — A Gay and
Festive Quartermaster — Smith — Attempted Robbery of Mrs. Ivcr-
son's House at San Gabriel — Robber Camp at Temescal — The
Rangers, Regulars and Mormon Contingent Make a Night March
on Their Camp — Escape — On to San Juan Capistrano — Juan Fors-
ter — Juan Avila el Rico. 165

CHAPTER XIV.

El Viejo Lugo — His Vast Wealth and Great Generosity — His Death —
Bill, the Most Remarkable -Omar Pacha — Louis Napoleon — U. 8.
Grant — Knights Ferry — King Gumbo Jumbo and Kahmebameha —
A Wonderful Saint — Chebang— Boom — My Compadre — Another
Pacha who Decimates a Turkish Regiment 174

CHAPTER XV.

Attempted Assassination ef Judge Hayes— Horses Stolen From San
Bernardino Ranch — The Lugos Pursue, Attack and Defeat the In-
dians, and Massacre a Party of Americans — Adobe Houses — The
Fandango — Peons end Pelados— Cascarones — The Dead Des-
perado 194

12 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XVI.

Alex. Bell — His Adventures— Lea U a Filibustering Expedition to
Equador— Gen. Flores— Eminent Fighting Men— Walker's Expe-'
dition to Lower California — A Mexican Hercules — Battle of La
Grulla— The Twin Republics— The Old Flag Abolished— The Gov-
ernraent Starts for Sonora — Hercules Heads it off — Major Mc-
Kinstry, U. 8. A. 203

CHAPTER XVII.

.

More Filibusters — Cafe Barrierre— Madame Begon — The Expedition of
Count Gaston de Raoussett Boulbon to Sonora — All Made Prisoners
— The Noble Count is Shot and His Followers are Banished to Los
Angeles — The Crabbe Expedition to S<mora — Its Objects — The
Ainsa Family — Gandara and Pesqueira — The Massacre — One Sur-
vivor Tells the Tale — The Feast of Demons — Fernandez the
Traitor — Alexis Godey and Kit Carson— Crabbe's Original Letter
to the Mexican Prefect Announcing his Coming — Pesqueira's
Proclamation 211

CHAPTER XVIII.

More Filibusters — The Expedition of Admiral Zerman to Lower Cali-
fornia — "The Stern Admiral" — Gen. Blancarte Traps and Sends
the Party as Prisoners to Mexico — Bob Baldwin — John Cullen —
Smith and His Bloody Record— John Temple and the Plan to Rob
Him— His Vast Wealth— End of Smith 227

CHAPTER XIX.

Revolution — The California Spaniard — His Patriotism— The Great
Gringo Nation — John Raines — Guadaloupe Sanchez — Organization
of Patriots — The Plaza Occupied — "Viva la Republica, and Death
to the Gringos " — General Littleton to the Rescue — Kaid on the Bella
Union Bar- -Mayor Hodges in the Field — Firing on the Plaza —
The Gringo Phalanx Routed — The Mayor in a Bomb Proof — The
Phalanx Triumphant — The Killed and Wounded — Dona Maria,
the Lady Mayoress in Peril — Littleton Relieves Her— The Last Out-
rage—The Angels Redeemed— "All is Well that Ends Well." 235

CHAPTER XX,

Bull Fights — Romance of Spanish American Conquest — Gran Funcion
de Toros— The Gran Toreador— Plaza de Toros— The Debut of Don
Jesus — "The Bravest Man in the World" — A Furious Bull — A. Des-
perate Encounter — The La/adores, Picadores and Banderilleros —
The Gran Toreador Gets a Raise— The Battle Over— The Gringo's
Revenge . . .242

CONTENTS. 13

CHAPTER XXI.

Bears and Bear Stories— Lassoing the Grizzly — Jim Bogg's Bear Fight
—Col. Win. Butts— "The Southern Cal i for niaii"— Butts and Wheeler
• — Butts' Encounter With a Grizzly — Andy Sublette and the Bear —
" Old Buck " — Andy's Last Fight— Victory and Death — Andy's
Funeral — Old Buck Dies From Grief — Queer Freak of an Old
Grizzly — Fred Stacer's Adventure— Bill Bradshaw and Nelse Wil-
liamson — A Bad Wound 250

CHAPTER' XXII.

Parker H. French — His Grand Overland Expedition from San An-
tonio de Bexar — Capture of the Expedition at El Paso — French-
Turns Robber and Brings up in the Durango Prison — His Arm
Amputated — Is a Guest at the Bella Uni»n — Goes to San Luis
Obispo and Gets to be a Senator — His Antics — Sells and Mortgages
His Constituents' Ranchos — Turns up in Nicaragua — Minister to
Washington — Is Kicker' Out of Nicaragua and Turns up Again a
Prisoner of State in Fort Lafayette — A Dangerous Confederate Spy. 261

CHAPTER XXIII.

John G'^ntnn and Hi« ChHuuthna Sraln Hunters — Mustang Gray and
His Ranger Protege— Glan ton and His Rangers Reach Chihuahua
— Treat With the Chihuahua Governor — Apache Scalps for Two
Ounces Each — Ben. Riddle and John Abel— The First Campaign —
Grn r " t ft,-~~~™ '.r.H nnHor. Wnword — The Second Campaign — A
Mistake in Scalps — Flight of the Rangers — Arrival at Jesus Maria
— The Mexican Flag Outrage — The Second Flight— Arrival at
Tucson — The Place Besieged by Mangas Colorado — The Rangers
Save the Place — Great Joy of the Inhabitants — The Last Camp —
Massacre — The Two Browns 267

CHAPTER XXIV.

McFarland — The Election of '53 — Jurupa — Agua Mansa Again — Sharp
Skirmishing tor Votes — Rubideaux — "Can a Nigger Vote in Califor-
nia?" — He Votes — The Mormon Stockade — Bishop Crosby's Hotel —
Cook- One Vote for Waldo — Quite a Skirmish — Alcalde Brown —
Mormon Justice — Pegleg Smith — His Camp in the Rocky Moun
tains— He Goes to the Spanish Country for Horses — Raid on Los
Angeles Ranchos— Jim Beckworth— The Gringos Block the Game... 274

CHAPTER XXV.

Ranchero Life — Fiestas — Military Execution — Rancho San Pedro — Don
Manuel Dominguez — A Dignitary — Rancho Del Chino— Colonel
Isaac Williams—His Noble Generosity — Rancho San Joaquin—
A Grand Rodea — Don Jose" Sepulveda— A Forty-two Mile Race-
William Wolfskill 284

14 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Jim Savage the Tulare King — His Great Influence Over the Indians—
His Barrel of Gold Du>t — He Establishes His Camp and Harem
on the Plaza of San Frauuisc >- Is Photographed by Vance — Indian
Monte— Jim Wins a Large Pile— His Bloody End 296

CHAPTER XXVII.

Bradshaw — A True Gentleman and Natural Lunatic — Bill First Turns
up in Sonoma in 184G — His Scrimmage with a Mexican Captain —
Comes Out First best but Vamoses the Ranch — .Joins the Bear Flag
Party — Capture of Sonoma — True Chivalry — Joins Fremont's Bat-
talion — Mad Freaks Among the Angels — The French Rebellion at
Mokelumne Hill — The Militia Ordered out — Bradshaw Appointed to
Command — Happy Termination of the War — His Antics in San
Francisco — Goes to Arizona — Tragic Death 303

CHAPTER XXVIII.

The Haleys Again — Loss of the " Yankee Blade " — Timely Arrival of
the "Goliah" — The Roughs on the Wrecked Steamer — Gallant
Exploit of Captain Haley in Rescuing the Unfortunates — How the
Roughs were Handled on the '• Goliah" — The Russian Frigate
" Diana " and the French Man of War " Ambuscade " — The Great
Japan Tidal Wave — Great Destruction of Shipping — The "Sea
Bird " Rides Through It 312

CHAPTER XXIX.

More Pioneer Staging — Banning Again — A Rough Ride — Dangerous
Driving — Fort Tejon and Its Commander — W. S. Hancock, A. Q. M.
— The Kern River Excitement — A Grand Rush — The First Train
Going North— Don David Alexander — A Reminiscence of Cerbol
Barelas and the Path-Finder — Stoneman and Others 322

CHAPTER XXX.

A Ranger Antiquarian — A Pompeii at Our Back Door — Tehachepi —
The Robin Hood of the Windy Pass— The Last Relic of a By-gone
Race — The Valley *>f Perpetual Bloom — The Ventarron — The
Phantom City 336

CHAPTER XXXI.

Joe Stokes — A First Class Desperad<i — Sanguinaiy .Combat-^Kills His
Man at Sacramento and Comes to Los Angeles — An Episode in
San Francisco — Ned McGowan — The Panama Riot and Massacre —
A Heroic Defense — Glorious Death — A. H. Clark — His Farewell to
Angel Creditors. . . . . 350

CONTENTS. 15

CHAPTER XXXII.

The Know Nothings Carry the Day in 1855 — Downey Again — Aleck
Bell Again, and How He Won a Fine Position, and How He Man-
aged His Friends at Ban Quintin— James King of William 370

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Another Revolution — Juan Flores Raises the Standard of Revolt — Cap-
tures San Juan Capistrano — Levies Forced Loans — Murders a Mer-
chant — Massacre of the Sheriffs Party — A Vendetta — Gen. Pico
Takes the Field — T. D. Mott Commands an Expedition to San
Buenaventura — The Rebellion Squelched — Rebels Hung — Bloody
Trophies— Stuttering Aleck 38£

CHAPTER XXXIV.

A Reminiscence of San Francisco — The El Dorado — A. Great Gambling
Hell — Clayt Sinclair and His High Betting — The Diamond Cluster
Pin — A Chinese Thief — A Nest of Burglars and Counterfeiters —
Capture of the Gang — Cora and Richardson — The Allies — The
Malikoff Retaken— The Union 395

CHAPTER XXXV.

The Great Colorado Desert — A Legend — A Scientific Man Makes a
Great Discovery — The Desert to be Filled with Water — The " Wid-
ney Sea " — Fremont to Fill it Up — General Stoneman Knecks the
Bottom Out of It— A Tradition— The Ship of the Desert 407

CHAPTER XXXVI.

A Reminiscence of Sacramento — King Solomon Gets His Gold in Cali-
fornia — An Ancient Description of the Country — The 200-Pound
Diamond — The El Dorado War — Murder — The Diamond Again —
Skirmish with Indians — A Discovery — Gold Lake — San Fran —
cisco — T. Butler King and Uncle Sam's Coin — Frank Ball Again... 426

CHAPTER XXXVII.

A Retrospective View — A Thirty Years' Change — "The Old Man of the
Mountain " — Fraudulent Land Grants — The Limantour Land Claim
— Santa Ana's Minister Bocanegra — Attempt to Assassinate Him —
Fraud Exposed — The Justice and Wisdom of the Government Vin-
dicated — Conclusion .. 443

CHAPTER I.

The Sea Bird — Arrival at San Pedro — The two Captains Haley — Pioneer
Staging — Sailor Stage Drivers — Banning — " Let Her Drive " — Stage
Race and High Betting — Arrival at the Angels — The Bella Union and
its Guests — The First Vigilance Committee — The Seven Wise Men of
the Angels— Their Inquisitorial Torture — They Find the Assassin of
Gen. Bean and Hang an Innocent Man— Joaquin Murietta — Zapatero,
the Tejon Chief— The El Dorado — Aleck Gibson's — Nigger Alley and
Gambling— Note! Characters — Crooked Nose Smith — Cherokee Bob.

fN October, 1852, the good steamer "Sea Bird," Captain
Haley, landed at San Pedro. Whether the gallant com-
mander of the swan-like little steamer that so gracefully
swept our beautiful Southern coast was Salisbury Haley Esq.,
now an honored member of the California bar, or his elder brother
"Bob," 1 disremember. Glorious old Bob Haley! So fondly
remembered by all who are left of those that were so wont to go
dead-head to San Francisco, with jolly old Bob on his merry
craft in those good old times, long gone by, never to be known
again in this world, and certainly not by any of us who so mer-
rily passed through them. I think, however, that Salisbury was
the commander of the beautiful " Sea Bird," on the trip that
brought the writer to this land of sunshine and bountiful pros-
perity, more than a quarter of a century ago. What changes
have been wrought within that time ! Changes in Govern-
ment, progress in commerce, discoveries in science, revolutions
in modes of travel, and vicissitudes in the lives and fortunes of
individuals !• How few are left of the thoughtless and reckless
adventurers who inhabited and roamed over California twenty-
eight years ago; and at that time all were adventurers, unless,

18 REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER.

perchance, some few of the grave old Spaniards who belonged
to a past generation.

The "Sea Bird" brought about twenty passengers, one of
whom was the writer, then a boy in years, and the youngest of
all, unless, perhaps, little Johnny Wilson, now deceased, Ro-
mualdo Pacheco, Judge Ogier, B. D. Wilson, Pat. Tompkins,
the eccentric lawyer and former Congressman from Mississippi,
and Alexander Nelson, of Green Meadows. I remember that
Nelson was in company with the Hardy boys, who were bring-
ing down an English thoroughbred race horse to get a race out
of "Old Sepulveda," against a native mustang, and beat the
old Don out of a thousand or two head of cattle and a few
thousand dollars. They got the race, but failed to drive the
cattle to a profitable market in the mines, for the reason that
Sepulveda's California mustang, on the nine-mile race, almost
distanced the beautiful thoroughbred, and the old Don afore-
said quietly pocketed the innumerable $50 octagonal slugs,
brought down by the boys, who were so absolutely cleaned out,
that, if my memory is correct, they were all forced to go to
work, something hardly to be thought of at that time in Los
Angeles. Indians did the labor and the white man spent the
money in those happy days.

The Hardys are all dead. Nelson is a rich and prosperous
farmer, whose increase of family keeps pace with his prosperity.

At San Pedro we found two stages of the old army ambu-
lance pattern, to which were being harnessed as vicious a look-
ing herd of bronco mules as ever kicked the brains out of a
gringo. While a half dozen Indian and Mexican vaqueros
were engaged in subduing and hitching up the mules, a gallant
looking young man rode up, splendidly mounted, and dressed
in elegant clothes, half gentleman and half ranchero in style,
and after politely saluting Don Benito Wilson, informed him
that a great Vigilance Committee was in session in Los An-
geles, and were trying some half dozen cut-throats, who had

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 19

been arrested and accused of the murder of General Bean.
Don Benito informed us that the young man was Billy
Reader, City Marshal of Los Angeles. Poor Billy ! He ac-
companied the author to Nicaragua and -was killed at San Ja-
cinto. By the time the conversation above referred to had
ended, the stages were ready and we were invited to "get in."
A sailor-looking fellow, who seemed to be at least half-seas-
over, sat on the driver's seat and held the lines all together in
both hands, while two savage looking Mexicans, mounted on
horses that, for bone and sinew, would have vied with the
famous steed of Mazeppa, stood with lassoes tightly drawn on
the leading mules to "guide centre," while two others stood in
a flanking position with their riatas ready to be used as whips
to urge the animals forward when the word was given to "let
loose." Finally, when all hands were seated, a portly looking
young man that Don Benito called Banning, came around with
a basket on his arm and offered to each of the passengers an
ominous looking black bottle, remarking, "Gentlemen, there is
no water between here and Los Angeles," and then inquired,
" all ready ? " One surly looking sailor driver grumbled out in
reply. " Is there going to be no betting ? " When Banning
laughingly remarked that the drivers usually expected the pas-
sengers to bet something on the trip, "just enough to make it
interesting," whereupon a passenger who sat beside me, whose
neat appearance showed him to be a recent importation, offered
to bet $5 on our stage. One of the horse racers on the other
stage said: "Well, do you suppose there is a man on this
wagon who would bet $5? There is a slug I'll go you on the
trip." My neighbor, whom I recollect as Ransom, failed to re-
spond; so the author patriotically saw his $50, after which the
betting became general.

When all the stakes were made, Banning sang • out to the
driver: "Now lads, mind your helm ! Let her drive! " and the
Mexican major-domo savagely yelled out: "Suelto carajo!" and

20 REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER.

sure enough it was "let loose" and away we went. Of all the
rattling of harness, kicking, bucking, pulling, lashing and
swearing, the twelve bronco mules, the two half-drunk sailor
drivers, and the six Mexican conductors with their chief, the
major-domo, they did the most. The mules were worthy of
the glorious country that gave them to their domineering and
relentless masters. The two Mexicans who "guided centre" on
the two leading mules of both stages, were certainly artists;
they were absolute masters of the situation. They just snaked
the mules along, whether they would or not. The four out-
riders, or mule-whackers, showed a refinement in whipping
mules that was absolutely incomparable, and by the time we
were half way to the Angels, the mules bore a perfect resem-
blance to the ring-streaked and striped kine of Holy Writ.
The two half- drunk sailor drivers would roar at each other, as
we dashed along at lightning speed, sometimes passing each
other, sometimes neck and neck, each team straining every
nerve to get ahead of the other. "Helm a-port, you lubber !
Don't you see you will run into me ! " always with an amount
of profanity that was absolutely appalling. Greeley's ride with
Hank Monk was monotonous compared with the early staging
between San Pedro and Los Angeles. There was money bet
on that bronco mule stage race, and when we had passed over
about half the distance, the two teams kind of slacked up in
speed, as if by mutual consent of all concerned, except we who
had bet our money. We were opposed to any thing of the sort,
and urged our driver onward, when he said in a gruff kind of
way: " When will we splice the main brace ? " One of the black
bottles was accordingly opened and passed to the driver, who
raised his eyes heavenward and gazed piously at the stars that
were just beginning to twinkle in the early twilight, and then
passed it to one of the "whackers," who also raised his eyes
heavenward and gazed at the stars. We passed out another
bottle, and all of the Dons followed suit. We could sqe that the

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 21

same performance was being gone through with by the party
in charge of the other stage. We inside the stage went
through the same pious devotions, only we failed to see stars.
One happy passenger at this juncture said to the driver: "I'll
give you $5 if you'll beat that stage to the city."

" Bully/' said the sailor. " How much will you give ? And
you ? And you ? And you ? " and " we all " who had bet gave
$5, and then said the driver, "Them buckaries have got to be
seen, or we are beaten worse nor a Chinese junk." We saw
the Dons and told the driver to let loose again, and away we
went rackety- whack. The party in the other stage had seen the
drivers and Dons apparently in the same manner as we had seen
ours, so we got no advantage of them, and the racing, lashing
and swearing, both in English and Spanish, recommenced in as
lively a manner as before, and on we dashed. In a brief space
of time we were coming up San Pedro street at a fearful speed,
followed by a pack of dogs, barking, yelping and snarling at us
in a savage way. By the time we turned to come into town,
about First street, their number seemed legion, " mongrel,
puppy, whelp and hound." With the whole pack at our heels,
we drove up to the Bella Union Hotel, now the St. Charles,
our team at least a half-block in the rear of the winning party.
Alas, for human folly! Where was my $50, my $5 to the
driver, ditto to the Dons? It seemed to me to be ominous
of future bad luck in the City of the Angels — of financial fail-
ure. Alas ! Alas !

Winston and Hodges kept the Bella Union at that time.
The house was a one-story flat-roofed adobe, with a corral in
the rear, extending to Los Angeles street, with the usual great
Spanish portal, near which stood a little frame house, one room
above and one below. The lower room had the sign "Im-
prenta" over the door fronting on Los Angeles street, which
meant that the Star was published therein. The room up-
stairs was used as a dormitory for the printers and editors.

22 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

The editors were then three in number: Lewis, Rand, and
Manuel Clemente Rojo. The latter edited the Spanish col-
umns of the Star, it being published in both Spanish and En-
glish. On the north side of the Bella Union corral, extending
from the back-door of the main building to Los Angeles street,
were numerous pigeon-holes, or dog-kennels. These were the
rooms for the guests of the Bella Union. In rainy weather the
primitive earthen floor was sometimes, and generally, rendered
quite fnuddy by the percolations from the roof above, which, in
height from floor to ceiling, was about six or seven feet. The
rooms were not over 6x9 in size. Such were the ordinary dor-
mitories of the hotel that advertised as being the "best hotel
south of San Francisco." If a very aristocratic guest came
along, a great sacrifice was made in his favor, and he was per-
mitted to sleep on the little billiard table. "The bar was well
supplied." So said the advertisement. It was well patron-
ized. So says this truthful historian. We registered our
name, washed, and smiled at the bar. The grim, desperado-
looking bar-tender by no means smiled at us. lie looked as
though he had not smiled since his father was hung. Mind
you, now, I don't say that bar- tender's father was hung, but if
he were not, he should have been before becoming the father of
such an ill-looking fellow. He was a vindictive appearing
man, and wore an old dragoon overcoat and a red hat; a vi-
cuna so common in the country at the time; open-legged
Mexican calzoneros, with jingling buttons from hip to bottom,
and by no means immaculate under-linen ; protruding from be-
neath his flowing robe could be seen the ugly looking Colt's re-
volver, while, with the red fringe-work of his Mexican sash
could be seen mingled a chain of ponderous golden nuggets that
hung from his fob. That bar-tender looked as though he never
smiled. I am sure that no man, though he may have been
never so hard up, so dry, or so desperate, would have had the te-
merity to take a drink at that bar without treating that bar-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 23

tender with the utmost civility. In one corner behind the bar
stood a double-barrelled shot-gun, while, lying within convenient
reach, could be seen a couple of "Colt's" of the old army pat-
tern, carrying half-ounce balls, and commonly called "batteries."
The bar was evidently not to be taken by surprise. I soon made the
acquaintance of the junior member of the hotel firm, who was
also Mayor of the city, and, like Mayors in general, he was the
reverse of the grim bar-tender. He just smiled all over, and all
the time. It was a perpetual smile with genial old Hodges.
The bar was well patronized, so reiterates this pious chron-
icler, and during the hour or two that I was a looker-on, there
was a continuous smiling at that bar. Although I had been
two and-a-half years in the upper country, and had become fa-
miliarized with the desperado character of the people, I
most solemnly asseverate that the patrons who came and went
from the Bella Union bar during that time were the most ban-
dit, cut-throat looking set that the writer had ever sat his
youthful eyes upon. Some were dressed in the gorgeous attire
of the country, some half ranchero, half miner; others were
dressed in the most modern style of tailorship; all, however,
had slung to their rear the never-failing pair of Colt's, gener-
ally with the accompaniment of the bowie knife. I will dis-
pose of the aforesaid junior member of the hotel firm, Mayor
Hodges, by saying that he is long since dead. The municipal
corporation remembers him as one of its most enterprising and
intelligent heads. Under his vigorous administration the au-
thorities projected and carried to completion a public water
ditch, which remains to this day a monument to his enterprise
and forethought.

On the morning following my arrival in the city of the An-
gels I walked around to take notes in my mind as to matters
of general interest. First I went immediately across the street
to a very small adobe house with two rooms, in which sat in
solemn conclave, a sub-committee of the great constituted

24 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

criminal court of the city. On inquiry I found that the said
sub-committee had been in session for about a week, endeavor-
ing to extract confessions from the miserable culprits by a very
refined process of questioning and cross-questioning, first by
one of the committee, then by another, until the whole com-
mittee would exhaust their ingenuity on the victim, when all
of their separate results would be solemnly compared, and all
of the discrepancies in the prisoner's statements would be
brought back to him and he be required to explain and recon-
cile the\n to suit the examining committee; and the poor devil,
who doubtless was frightened so badly that he would hardly
know one moment what he had said the moment previous, was
held strictly accountable for any and all contradictions, and if
not satisfactorily explained, was invariably taken by the wise
heads of the said committee to be conclusive evidence of guilt,
Six men were being tried, all Sonoranians, except one, Felipe
Read, a half-breed Indian, whose father was a Scotchman ; all
claimed, of course, to be innocent; finally one Reyes Feliz
made a confession, probably under the hypothesis that hang-
ing would be preferable to such inquisitorial torture as was be-
ing practiced on him by the seven wise men of the Angels.
Reyes said in his confession that he and his brother-in-law,
Joaquin Murietta, with a few followers, had, about a year pre-
vious, ran off the horses of Jim Thompson from the Brea
ranch, and succeeded in getting them as far as the Tejon, then
exclusively inhabited by Indians; that old Zapatero, the Tejon
chief, on recognizing Jim Thompson's brand, arrested the
whole party, some dozen in all, men and women, and stripped
them all stark naked, tied them up, and had them whipped
half to death, and turned loose to shift for themselves in the
best way they could. Fortunately for the poor outcasts, they
fell in with an American of kindred sympathies, who did what
he could to relieve the distress of the forlorn thieves, who con-
tinued their way as best they could toward the "Southern

REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER. 25

Mines" on the Stanislaus and Tuolumne, no mining being done
south of those points at that time. In the meantime, brave
old Zapatero, who was every inch a chief, sent Thompson's herd
back to him — an act for which I hope Jim is to this day duly
grateful.

At the time this confession was made, Joaquin was walking
around, as unconcerned as any other gentleman; but when the
minions of the mob went to lay heavy hand upon him he was gone,
and from that day until the day of his death, Joaquin Murietta
was an outlaw and the terror of the southern counties. Until
that confession he stood in this community with as good a char-
acter as any other Mexican of his class.

Reyes Feliz denied all knowledge of the murder of General
Bean. One of the prisoners, Cipriano Sandoval, the village
cobbler of San Gabriel, also, after having for several days
maintained his innocence, and denied any and all knowledge of
the murder, came out and made a full confession. He said he
was on his way home from the maromas (rope-dancers) at
about 11 o'clock one night, it being quite dark. He heard a
shot, and then the footsteps of a man running toward him;
that a moment after he came in violent contact with a man
whom he at once recognized as Felipe Read. They mutually
recognized each other, when Felipe said: Cipriano, I have just
shot Bean. Here is five dollars; take it, say nothing about it,
and when you want money come to me and get it." That was
the sum total of his confession. All the others remained ob-
durate, and what I have related was the sum of the informa-
tion elicited by the seven days inquisition. The committee
had certainly found the murderer of General Bean.

The fact was, I believe, that Bean, who kept a bar at the
Mission, had seduced Felipe's mistress, an Indian woman, away
from him, and hence the assassination. Three days after my
arrival the "'inquisitors" announced themselves as ready to re-

26 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

port. In the meantime I went around taking notes in my
mind.

Los Angeles, at the time of my arrival, was certainly a nice
looking place — the houses generally looked neat and clean, and
were well whitewashed. There were three two-story adobe
houses in the city, the most important of which is the present
residence of Mrs. Bell, widow of the late Capt. Alex. Bell;
then the Temple building, a substantial two-story, at the junc-
tion of Main and Spring streets; and the old Casa Sanchez, on
what is now Sanchez street. The lower walls of the latter are
still there, the house having been razeed. The business of the
place was very considerable; the most of the merchants were
Jews, and all seemed to be doing a paying business. The fact
was, they were all getting rich. The streets were thronged
throughout the entire day with splendidly mounted and richly
dressed caballeros, most of whom wore suits of clothes that cost
all the way from $500 to $ 1,000, with, saddle and horse trappings
that cost even more than the above named sums. Of one of the
Lugos, I remember, it was said his horse equipments cost over
$2,000. Everybody in Los Angeles seemed rich, everybody
was rich, and money was more plentiful, at that time, than in
any other place of like size, I venture to say, in the world.

The question will at once suggest itself to the reader: Why
was it that money was so plentiful in Los Angeles at the time
referred to? I will inform him. The great rush to the gold
mines had created a demand for beef cattle, and the years '48,
'49 and '50 had exhausted the supply in the counties north of
San Luis Obispo, and purchasers came to Los Angeles, then the
greatest cow county of the State. The southern counties had
enjoyed a succession of good seasons of rain and bountiful sup-
ply of grass. The cattle and horses had increased to an un-
precedented number, and the prices ranged from $20 to $35 per
head, and a man was poor indeed who could not sell at the
time one or two hundred head of cattle, and many of our first-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 27

class rancheros, for instance the Sepulvedas, Abilas, Lugos,
Yorbas, Picos, Stearns, Rowlands and Williams, could sell a
thousand head of cattle at any time and put the money in their
pockets as small change, and as such they spent it.

On the second evening after my arrival, in company with a
gentleman, now of high standing in California, I went around
to see the sights. We first went to the " El Dorado " and smiled
at the bar. The " El Dorado " was a small frame building, a
duplicate of the "Imprenta, " wherein the Star was published;
the room below being used as a bar and billiard room, while
the upper room was used as a dormitory. The place was kept
by an elegant Irishman, John H. Hughes, said to have been a
near kinsman of the late great church dignitary, Archbishop
Hughes. John was a scholar, and without doubt, so far as
manners and accomplishments went, was a splendid gentleman,
and the whole community accorded to him the honor of being
a good judge of whisky. The "El Dorado" was situated at
about the southeast corner of the Merced theater.

Along toward the spring of 1853, the Rev. Adam Bland,
without the fear of the virtuous community before his eyes,
purchased the " El Dorado, " pulled down its sacred sign, and
profanely converted it into a Methodist church ! Alas, poor
Hughes ! 1 believe it broke his heart. He never recovered
from the blow. It broke his noble spirit, and a few years later,
when a fair Senorita withheld her smiles from the brilliant
Hughes, it was the feather that broke the camel's back, and
the disconsolate Hughes joined the Crabbe filibustering expedi-
tion to Sonora and was killed.

From the " El Dorado " we betook ourselves to Aleck Gibson's
gambling house on the plaza, where a well kept bar was in full
blast, and some half dozen " monte banks " in successful opera-
tion, each, table with its green baize cover, being literally heaped
with piles of $50 ingots, commonly called " slugs. " Betting
was high. You would frequently see a ranchero with an im-

28 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

mense pile of gold in front of him, quietly and unconcernedly
smoking his cigarrito and betting twenty slugs on the turn, the
losing of which produced no perceptible discomposure of his
grave countenance. For grave self-possession under difficult
and trying circumstances, the Spaniard is in advance of all na-
tionalities that I know of.

From the great gambling house on the plaza we hied us to
the classic precincts of the "Calle de los Negros," which was the
most perfect and full grown pandemonium that this writer,
who had seen the "elephant" before, and has been more than
familiar with him under many phases since, has ever beheld.
There were four or five gambling places, and the crowd from
the old Coronel building on the Los Angeles street corner to
the plaza was so dense that we could scarcely squeeze through.
Americans, Spaniards, Indians and foreigners, rushing and
crowding along from one gambling house to another, from
table to table, all chinking the everlasting eight square $50
pieces up and down in their palms. There were several bands
of music of the primitive Mexican-Indian kind, that sent forth
most discordant sound, by no means in harmony with the eter-
nal jingle of gold — while at the upper end of the street, in the
rear of one of the gambling houses was a Mexican "Maroma"
in uproarious confusion. They positively made night hideous
with their howlings. Every few minutes a rush would be
made, and may be a pistol shot would be heard, and when the
confusion incident to the rush would have somewhat subsided,
and inquiry made, you would learn that it was only a knife
fight between two Mexicans, or a gambler had caught some-
body cheating and had perforated him with a bullet. Such
things were a matter of course, and no complaint or arrests
were ever made. An officer would not have had the temerity
to attempt an arrest in "Negro Alley," at that time.

I have no hesitation in saying that in the years of 1851, '52
and '53, there were more desperadoes in Los Angeles than in any

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 29

place on the Pacific coast, San Francisco with its great popu-
lation not excepted. It was a fact, that all of the bad charac-
ters who had been driven from the mines had taken refuge in
Los Angeles, for the reason that if forced to move further on,
it was only a short ride to Mexican soil, while on the other
hand all of the outlaws of the Mexican frontier made for the
California gold mines, and the cut-throats of California and
Mexico naturally met at Los Angeles, and at Los Angeles they
fought. Knives and revolvers settled all differences, either real
or imaginary. The slightest misunderstandings were settled
on the spot with knife or bullet, the Mexican preferring the
former at close quarters and the American the latter.

During the years of '52 and '53, it was a common and usual
query at the bar or breakfast table, "well, how many were
killed last night? " then "who was it ? " and " who killed him ? '
The year '53 showed an average mortality from fights and as-
sassinations of over one per day in Los Angeles. In the year
last referred to, police statistics showed a greater number of
murders in California than in all the United States besides,
and a greater number in Los Angeles than in all of the rest of
California. The desperadoes set all law at defiance, Sheriffs
and Marshals were killed at pleasure, and at one time the office
of Sheriff, then worth $10,000 a year, went a begging; the
wheels of Justice refused to revolve, no man could be found
bold enough to come forward and accept the office, until Jim
Thompson threw himself into the breach, as it were, and be-
came Sheriff of Los Angeles county, when two predecessors had
been assassinated within the year preceding his appointment.
It is worthy of remark that Jim, being rich at the time, did
not need or want the office, but accepted it solely on the urgent
demand of the Courts of Justice. Robberies were of rare oc-
currence, money being so plentiful and so easily obtained by
gambling, that out-and-out robbery was not necessary.

"Within the three or four days following my arrival, several

30 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

men were pointed out to me as being first-class desperadoes,
the most conspicuous of whom was "Crooked-nose Smith,"
who had killed his half-dozen men in the upper country, and
when he did Los Angeles the honor of his presence, he gave
out the comforting assurance that he would not kill any one
until just before he would depart for Mexico. "Crooked Nose"
was certainly a man of honor as well as a first-class artist, for
he kept his promise to the very letter. On the day prior to his
departure he did us the honor to furnish a first-class gambler
for breakfast. He politely apologized for the interruption he
had caused in the unusual quiet that had pervaded the atmos-
phere of our beautiful city, by saying that he had not killed a
man for six months, and he feared he might get his hand out.
"Crooked Nose" was a very prince of a desperado, the admira-
tion and envy of all of the small-fry members of the profession
•
who had as yet only killed their one or two men.

"Cherokee Bob" was another artist of great merit, and was
pointed out to me as a gentleman of great consequence, who
had killed six Chilenos in one fight, and although he had been
riddled with bullets and ripped and sliced with knives, yet he
had never failed to get his man when he went for him.

There were many other eminent characters who proudly
walked the streets with all the pomp and circumstance of being
looked up to by the commonality of mankind. In the inno-
cent simplicity of my heart, 1 mentally exclaimed: Surely I
am not only in the City of the Angels, but with the Angels
here I dwell.

REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER. 31

CHAPTER II.

Ricardo Urives— He Wipes Out Jim Irvin's Party— His Encounter with
John G. Downey — A Bloody Affray in Nigger Alley— Ricardo Passes
in His Checks — The Black Democrat — The Court of the Vigilance
Committee — The Doomed Meii — The Gallows — Hanging Reyes Feliz,
Sandoval and Three Others— The Arkansas Man as Hangman — The
Last of the First Mob — Retribution — Fandango at the Moreno House—
The Marshal — J. Thompson Burrell's Court and How it Was Adjourned
—Granger and Ogier — The Mission Indians — A Slave Mart.

author felt highly flattered at not only being per-
mitted to breathe the same air, tread the same soil,
but to actually live in the same town and to meet,
pass and repass, on terms of absolute equality, such distin-
guished men as those referred to. The privilege was certainly
a great one, and the author, as aforesaid, was prone to feel and
appreciate it to its fullest extent. Many other parties who
had killed their half-dozen were pointed out, but, save and ex-
cept one, I think "Crooked Nose" and "Bob" were the most
entitled to mention. The exception above noted was a native
Californian, named Ricardo Urives, who, in manner and ap-
pearance, was the most perfect specimen of a desperado I ever
beheld. Ricardo could stand more shooting and stabbing than
the average bull or grizzly bear. I remember that on one
lovely Sabbath afternoon, Ricardo got into a fight at the upper
end of the Calle de los Negros, and was beset with a crowd
fully intent on securing his scalp. He was attacked in front,
rear and on each flank; he was shot, stabbed and stoned; his
clothes were literally cut from his body. Still he fought his
way, revolver in one hand, bowie knife in the other, all the
way past the old Coronel corner to Aliso and Los Angeles

32 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

streets, where his horse was hitched. He quietly mounted,
bare-headed, bleeding from at least a score of wounds. The
crowd had fallen back into the narrow street, where lay some
half-dozen bleeding victims to bear witness to the certainty of
Ricardo's aim. The writer had witnessed the sanguinary and
desperate affair from the up-stairs verandah of Captain Bell's
residence, on the corner of Los Angeles and Aliso streets ; and
seeing that there were a multitude against one, felt greatly ex-
cited in favor of the ope, and it was with a secret prayer of
thanks that I saw the heroic fellow, who was so cut and carved
that his own mother would have failed to recognize him, emerge
from the crowded street, come to bay and drive his pursuers
back. What then was my surprise to see him deliberately ride
back to the place whence he had so miraculously escaped.

It seemed that he had fired the last shot from his heavy
Colt, for when he charged through the street he used his re-
volver as a war-club, and scattered and drove his enemies like
sheep. He then rode off into what is now called Sonora and
got his wounds bandaged up. It afterwards transpired that
he had been shot three times in the body, and stabbed all over.
He then put in a full hour riding up and down Main street in
front of the Bella Union, daring any gringo officer to arrest
him. None being bold enough to make the attempt, the gentle
Ricardo took his quiet departure for the " Rancho de los Coy-
otes," then the property of his sister.

Ricardo was brave, an army of one hundred thousand of his
likes would be invincible. But Ricardo's courage was that of
the lion or the tiger, and like those barons of the brute crea-
tion, when brought face to face with moral as well as physical
courage, the animal bravery of the desperado would quail. One
day a quiet young gentleman was passing through Nigger Al-
ley, and found Don Ricardo on the war path. He was tor-
menting, berating and abusing every one who came in his way,
and was particular in his abuse of a young Mexican, who

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 33

seemed to be a stranger, and to be greatly frightened. The
young gentleman stopped for a moment, and authoritatively
ordered the domineering Don to desist. The astonishment of
Ricardo was beyond description. He looked contemptuously
at the young man for a minute, then quietly drawing his bowie
started deliberately tor him, when, in an instant, he was cov-
ered with a small revolver, and commanded to stop. "One
more step," said the gringo, "and you are a dead man." With
his eye he caught that of Ricardo, and gazed fixedly into his
terrible, tiger-like orbs. Ricardo halted and commenced to
threaten. "Put up that knife/' said the young gringo. Ri-
cardo flourished his knife and swore. "Stop that," said the
gringo, with his eyes still riveted on those of the human
hyena. The Don stopped. Then once more, "Put up that
knife, or I will shoot you dead." Ricardo sheathed his bowie.
" Vayasse," " Begone," said the gringo, and to the utter aston-
ishment of the congregated crowd, Ricardo turned and slunk
away. At this juncture Jim Barton, the Sheriff, with a party,
arrived on the scene, and congratulated the victorious gringo on
his achievement, and then and not until then, did the gentle-
man know of the desperate character of his antagonist. It
was a fine example of moral and physical over mere brute cour-
age. The young gringo referred to, then a stranger, afterward
became Governor of the great State of California, and in dis-
charge of the high trust confided to him, displayed the same
degree of moral courage that first manifested itself in the mot-
ley crowd in Calle de Los Negros, and made the best Gov-
ernor, possibly, our State ever had. The young gringo and ex-
Governor John G. Downey are one and the same.

It will be the duty of the chronicler to make one more men-
tion of the redoubtable Ricardo, and then permit him to hand
in his checks. I think it was about a year after the great fight
above referred to, which took place in the summer of 1853, that
a bullet hit the Don in a vital part and sent him to " kingdom

34 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

come." It is somewhat of a digression, but I may as well tell
the story now as at any time. It was in 1851 that Jim Irvin,
with a gang of desperadoes to the number of twenty-five or
thirty, stopped at Los Angeles on their way to Mexico, in
search of ladies fair and pastures green. Some of the gang
found some friends in jail, and soon to be tried in the District
Court, then sitting in the old Bella Union. Jim concluded to
take the prisoners out of the hands of the Sheriff, and take
them along with him, and waited for them to be brought out
for trial with that object in view. It happened that a party of
United States troops were temporarily camped near the city,
and it was arranged that they should put in an appearance just
at the time the prisoners were to be brought in. The Court
opened. Jim Irvin marched in with his gang and grimly
awaited the arrival of the prisoners, who were presently at
hand, and at the same instant a platoon of troops drew up be-
fore the door, and an officer came into Court with the Sheriff.
Jim and his gang were given permission to leave the country,
otherwise they would be arrested.

"There was mounting 'monp grearaes of the Netherby clan;
Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran."

The above lines can well be applied to Irvin's gang, who were
ready and willing to override the civil officers, but were quite
loth to an encounter with United States dragoons. They went
directly to the Coyotes Ranch, thirty miles from the city, on
the road to Mexico. On their arrival in the evening, they sur-
prised the ranch and made a hostage of Ricardo, whom they
tied up and threatened to shoot unless he had the best horses
the ranch could afford driven up, ready for their inspection, by
daylight in the morning. All of their demands were complied
with to the very letter. Supper was prepared for them, wine
set out, and they were permitted without objection to appro-
priate what articles they chose, such as saddles, blankets, pro-
visions, etc., and the ranch at the time was one of the richest

• REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 35

and best supplied in the county. Sefior Ocampo and wife were
then in the city, and Ricardo was major domo, and in charge of
the estate.

In the morning, after appropriating what they wanted of the
most valuable horses, the gang packed up and left, immedi-
ately after which Ricardo was released. Without saying a
word, or leaving an order, he mounted a horse. He had under-
stood enough of the conversation carried on between the robbers
to know that they were going to the Colorado river, and would
go through the San Gorgonio Pass. He started in hot haste
across the Chino Hills to get in ahead of the party, whom he
had doomed to destruction. Long before the glorious orb of
day ceased to cast his beaming rays on the hoaiy head of grim
old Mt. San Bernardino, Ricardo lay in silent ambush with a
chosen band of Cahuilla Indians, who, at, the time, were nu-
merous in the vicinity of San Gorgonio. They had not long to
wait. About sunset the devoted party came in sight, hilari-
ous, as only men can be who have no thought beyond
the immediate present. They rode quietly into the ambush
and were slaughtered to a man. The Indians, v/ho thought it
to be a perfectly legitimate transaction, gave a minute account
of the affair, and said that Ricardo fought like a fiend incar-
nate ; and while they ( the Indians ) fought from their place of
concealment, Ricardo rushed forth on horseback, and, meeting
his foes face to face, let them know that he was the avenger of
his own wrongs.

The author had the gorgeous honor of eating beef stewed in
red pepper, beans and tortillas, at Ricardo's table, partak-
ing of his hospitality under his own roof-tree, and discussing
this whole question with him ; and, while placing him in the
front rank of desperadoes, it is only justice to say that, though
desperate he emphatically was, he was neither robber nor gam-
bler, but a good-hearted, honest fellow, who just fought for the
very love of fighting, for fighting was the order of the day, and

36 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

a man who could not fight was forced into a back seat, like the
poor boy at the frolic.

On the day following my arrival in this famed city of the
South, then by some designated "the City of Vineyards," I
betook myself to the city barber, Peter Biggs by name, after-
ward and during the days of the great sectional strife known as
the "Black Democrat." "Don Pedro," so styled by his Mexi-
can friends, was a famous character, and the writer proposes to
do his best in conferring the meed of immortality where it so
justly belongs, in trying to do justice to the memory of this il-
lustrious and necessary appendage to Los Angeles society, who,
for the period of a quarter of a century, or more, certainly
made himself known and felt in certain quarters of this emi-
nently virtuous community. Pete advertised in the Star to
"' shave and shampoo, wait on the gentlemen, run eirands, and
make himself generally useful." Pete vras a Virginian, so he
informed me while for the first time submitting to his barber-
ous manipulations, and came here as the servant of Captain A.
J. Smith, of the dragoons, afterwards famed as General com-
manding the 16th army corps of Sherman's army ; that he had
made a great deal of money in various speculations ; that he
had married a Spanish lady ; that the community, " 'specially
de ladies and gentlemen/' could by no means get along without
him. He said he knew all of the ladies, and sometimes carried
messages from gentlemen to them, and was always ready and
more than happy to introduce a stranger to female society, and
to act as interpreter when occasion demanded. At this point
Pete came to a period, seemingly anticipating that the author
would make some pertinent remark ; failing in which, Pete
broke the embarrassing silence by saying : " Would ye like to
make de 'quaintance of some of de ladies ? " I thereupon in-
formed him that 1 had friends here who would in all proba-
bility introduce me into such female society as would be proper
for one of my youth and inexperience to know, and at the same

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 37

time informed him who my friends were, at which Pete seemed
for a moment " run chock-a-block," but soon rallied and said :
" You see I doesn't mean ladies ob dat high-up class ; I means
de kind ob ladies dat's always anxious to make de 'quaintance
ob strangers ; 'specially dose dats got plenty ob de spondulix."

This eminently pious historian was then a most unsophisti-
cated youth, but he had read " Gil Bias," and lost little time
in arriving at the conclusion that Don Pedro occupied the same
relative position toward the resident female Angels, that the
renowned Gil occupied toward the Prince of Spain.

It is said the first '•' corner " ever made in California, was
made on tacks. A shrewd Yankee, in 1849, observing that
tacks were indispensable in all mining and building operations,
and that the wheels of progress would cease to revolve if the
supply of tacks was cut off for even a day, went to work and
bought up all of the tacks in San Francisco and all of the in-
voices on the way around the Horn, to arrive within the next
three months. The result was he monopolized the tack trade,
and sold tacks for gold, ounce for ounce, and thereby made a
splendid fortune. The next and second " corner " made was in
" cats," and that was made by the renowned subject of this
sketch, and this is the way he did it:

In 1849, San Francisco was over-supplied with rats, without
a corresponding supply of cats. The supply of cats in Los
Angeles was over-abundant, while of rats there were few. It
was therefore left to the fertile brain of this distinguished Vir-
ginian to equalize this great seeming inequality in the nature
of things. Consequently he went to work and gathered up all
of the cats he could get, either by hook or crook ( rumor had
it that the most of the feline merchandise was obtained by the
former process ) caged them up and shipped them, to San Fran-
cisco. Having the only cats in market, and cats being a ne-
cessity, Pete was supreme dictator as to prices, and sold his
cats, several hundred in number, at prices ranging at from $16

38 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

to $100 each, and thereby made a handsome fortune. Alas,
poor Pete ! His riches soon took wings.

Like all great men of the period, Pete was addicted to gam-
bling, and the product of his magnificent cat speculation went
to fill the coffers of the gambler princes of the Bay City. It
was said that Pete lost every dollar, and though broken in for-
tune the fertility of his resources still stood him in hand. Two
coops of cats were left exposed to the wind and weather, on
the vessel, and some 100 cats were drowned. Pete sought
counsel from some adventurous limb of the law, who had the
vessel libeled and forced a compromise in Pete's favor to the
amount of several hundred dollars. With the small portion
thereof pertaining to himself, the crestfallen forestaller of the
San Francisco cat market returned to the bosom of his devoted
Angel, a wiser it not a richer man.

Pete was an unfortunate cuss, always in some scrape, one of
which I am going to relate. It happened in 1851 that a great
ball was given at the house where now stands the First National
Bank. It was attended by all of the hard cases of the city,
among whom was that celebrated character Aleck Bell, of whom
more will be said hereafter. The ball opened, the music struck
up, and Aleck presented himself before the belle of the ball-
room, Doria Ramona, sometimes known as Mrs. Fremont, for
the reason 1 believe that this well known lady of the demi-
monde had cast the sunshine of her maiden affection on the con-
quering hero, General Fremont, when he set himself up as mili-
tary Governor of California. Aleck asked the honor of her
hand in the opening waltz. The Senorita graciously informed
the gallant Aleck that she was engaged for the first dance, but
he could certainly be gratified in the second. Aleck retired to
the crowd of lookers-on, highly delighted at the prospective
pleasure, and awaited the coming event. Finally the music
commenced, and what was Aleck's disgust at beholding the
rascally Pete, in all the glory of a swallow-tailed coat, brass

REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER. 39

buttons, white vest and gloves, redolent with all the perfume
of " Araby the blest," shuffle up to the much coveted belle of
the ball-room, and with one arm encircling her spider-like
waist, sail off in the whirling, giddy waltz. This was more
than Southern blood could stand, and out came Aleck's Colt.
The music was stopped and Aleck stepped up to Dona Rauiona,
and inquired of her if she " preferred dancing with a nigger to
a white man." She replied that " in this particular instance
she did; that Don Pedro was 'El Bastoinero,' (master of cere-
monies) and she deemed it a high privilege to accompany him
in the opening waltz." This was adding insult to injury.
Aleck's chivalry would not permit him to lay violent hands on
the lady, but satisfaction he mu§t have. So he blazed away at
Pete, who bolted for the door with Aleck hot after him. In
the meantime, and on the instant, as was always the case when
a row was raised, the gentlemen present commenced shooting
the lights out, as a matter of amusement, in which one in-
dividual was accidentally perforated. Pete gained the street
and started off like a quarter horse down Main street. It so
happened that General Bean's volunteers then occupied the
city, which at that particular time had on a big Indian scare.
Every street corner had a posted sentinel, while small mounted
parties patrolled the suburbs. Escaping from the scene of gay
festivities and threatened assassination, the hapless Pete, in
passing the United States Hotel corner, narrowly escaped death
from the sentry, who let fly at him. At the American Bakery
corner he was treated to another fusilade, which drew to the
place a mounted patrol, who, when made aware of the situa-
tion, dashed off in full chase. Coming up with the unfortunate
fugitive at about the point where the Bound House now stands,
they turned loose on him with their revolvers, but the noble
" Democrat " escaped into the vineyard on the left without so
much as a scratch; but, said Pete: "De good Lord knows dis
chile nebber stopped running till he got to San Pedro."

40 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Many, at the time, thought that the poor fellow had been
mortally wounded, and had got into some hiding-place and died.
The whole town grieved, none more so than Aleck Bell, who
had the best of feeling toward the gallant Don Pedro, and only
tried to murder him in vindication of his outraged chivalry.

In a day or two, however, Pete sent a courier to the city, to
the great relief of everybody, with an apology to the Americans
in general, and to Captain Bell in particular, and promised
that, if permitted to return, to ever after keep his place — a
promise religiously kept by him so far as the Americans were
concerned.

During the great civil war, like many other great men, Pete
felt his allegiance to be due to his native Virginia — first, last,
and always — and accordingly gave the weight of his influence
to the "Lost Cause;" hence the cognomen of "Black Demo-
crat."

Like most of the truly eminent characters of our early history,
Pete died with his boots on, after having been the hero of many
bloody scrimmages, and his taking off occurred in this way:
Pete, in company with another gentleman, went into a restaurant
in the Signoret building and ordered dinner. The Mexican
waiter, while serving them, was deemed guilty of some breach
of conventional good manners, and as none knew better how to
wait on a gentleman, none were more exacting in demanding
the utmost punctilio on the part of those who waited on him.
So, for his delinquency, Pete commenced to hurl epithets, ac-
companied with cups, saucers and plates at the waiter, who
waited until Spanish forbearance could wait no longer, when he
responded by shying a carving-knife, which perforated a vital
part of Pete's body and sent him to Abraham's bosom.

We all felt the loss of Pete to be irreparable. His place has
not been, and probably never will be, supplied. Many mourn-
ers followed the great man to his last resting-place. His slayer

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 41

walks our streets to-day, of course proudly conscious of having
killed a distinguished character.

I believe it was about the fourth day after my arrival that
the prisoners, who had been undergoing examination before the
sub-committee, were brought to the Court House, where the
final report of the committee was to be submitted to the great
self-constituted court of justice-loving Americans.

Abbott's bath house was then used as a Court House, and a
high old court it was, too, I assure you. The place was packed
to suffocation, with a dense crowd outside. " Old Horse-Face "
presided over the court. The report of the committee was first
read on the case of Reyes Feliz, and the President then in sol-
emn voice said : " Gentlemen, the court is now ready to hear
any motion." Whereupon a ferocious looking gambler mounted
a bench and said :

" I move that Reyes Feliz be taken to the hill and hung by
the neck until he be dead."

" All in favor of the motion will signify the same by saying
' aye ' ! " said the President, gravely.

II Aye ! aye ! aye ! " yelled the mob, and Reyes Feliz was a
doomed man. The same ceremony was gone through with in
all the other cases, including Cipriano Sandoval, the poor inno-
cent village cobbler of San Gabriel.

When they came to the case of the real murderer, a motion
was made that " Felipe Read be turned over to the legally con-
stituted authorities," and, strange to say, the motion was car-
ried without a dissenting vote. Felipe, the red-handed mur-
derer, was accordingly turned over to the Sheriff, and imme-
diately thereafter bailed and set at liberty. No effort was ever
made to bring him to justice, and he died in his bed some years
later in a natural way. So much for the wisdom of a mob.

All of this occurred on a Saturday, and the following day
was set for carrying into execution the sentences of the court.
By the time the town was astir next morning the ugly gallows

42 . REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

could be seen on Fort Hill, with its horrid arms extended, as
though defying the vengeance of man, or invoking the God of
Justice. At 9 o'clock a herald paraded the streets, ringing a
large dinner bell, and with loud voice summoning the faithful
to the feast; and at about the same hour heavy clouds over-
spread the sky, as though an angel had in charity thrown its
mantle over the scene to shut out the horrid spectacle from the
face of heaven, and it commenced to rain. An hour later the
crowd, with the condemned men, arrived at the gallows. Old
Father Anacleto, with his shorn crown bared to the storm, his
sacred robes drabbled with mud and dripping with water, to-
tally oblivious to the surrounding tumult, thoroughly absorbed
in his mission of mercy, devotedly accompanied the doomed
culprits, administering the sweet consolations of the church,
and so, with the executioner and the doomed men, he mounted
the scaffold. When all was ready, the victims were given per-
mission to speak. All maintained a dogged silence except the
poor cobbler Sandoval, who made a brief speech. He hoped
the great God would pardon his murderers as he pardoned
them, and said that he died innocent, without a crime. They
all kissed the crucifix, the rope was cut, the trap fell, and the
five men were launched into eternity. A peal of thunder an-
nounced the end of the tragedy.

Slowly and silently the crowd dispersed. The rain com-
menced to fall in torrents, and the grim bar-tender of the Bella
Union reaped a golden harvest on that gloomy Sabbath after-
noon. The murdered men were taken down and perhaps buried
by friendly Christian hands, and so ended the first great lynch-
ing in this very moral and justice-loving community. I say
the first great lynching. I will, however, qualify by saying
that some months previous, one Zabalete had been hung by the
lynchers.

The author retired early on that evening, pondering sadly
and solemnly over tbe events of the day, and could not refrain

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 43

from thinking that humanity would have been greatly benefit-
ted, if about four-fifths of that mob had been disposed of in
the same way as had been the hapless Mexicans who were
hung.

There is an old and trite saying that " great revolutions
bring to the surface great men." Such was the case in this in-
stance. An immigrant from Arkansas had been stalking
around the streets for some days previous, in a ragged and half-
clad condition. Like Jonah, he perceived an opening and
stepped in. He came forward and offered his services for a
consideration, to act as executioner. A purse was accordingly
raised in his behalf, and the great man from Arkansas became
the hangman of the mob. The day following the lynching, the
uncouth Arkansas man appeared on the streets dressed in the
very extreme of elegant and expensive fashion. He soon there-
after became the village pedagogue, and advertised in the Star
" a school for boys and girls." At the next municipal election,
the elegant hangman was honored by our people by being
elected City Marshal, and thereby hangs a tale, which I will
now unfold.

About June, 1853, the southern counties were overrun by
Mexican banditti, and two companies of Rangers were raised,
one in Calaveras county and one here in Los Angeles. On Sunday
night at about 9 o'clock, the Marshal appeared at the Ranger
barracks, then located at the corner of Los Angeles and Requena
streets, where Messmer's wine-store now is. He asked for a de-
tail to go to a fandango at the Moreno Houso, then located at
the south end of the present Brooks building, to arrest some
thieves known to be at the ball at the Moreno's. The men
were promptly furnished, and they started to the place of up-
roarious enjoyment. The Marshal, however, made an excuse
to go home and get an extra revolver, and the party of Rangers,
arriving at the fandango found everything so agreeable, that
instead of making arrests they were immediately taken into

44 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

custody by an overwhelming array of black-eyed Seiloritas, and
in the giddy mazes of the dance and under the exhilarating in-
fluences of Los Angeles wine, soon became oblivious of the Mar-
shal, Mexican thieves, and all else save and except the wine and the
women aforesaid. So the time gayly glided by until long past
midnight, when the dance broke up and the Rangers bethought
themselves of their mission and the Marshal. They accordingly
held a consultation, and arrived at the conclusion that the
Marshal had played them a shabby trick. They at once pro-
ceeded to the official residence, and found the delinquent chief
in the arms of his newly wedded bride, who, by the by, had
another husband, then living, I believe, at El Monte. They
woke him up, and informed him that they had had a bloody fight
at the fandango, that two of their number had been killed, that
a large force of thieves held the fandango house, that the
whole Ranger company were under arms, and that the Captain
desired the presence of the Marshal, and that he would march
on the f?*ndango house, and make mince-meat of the Mexican
outlaws, etc.

Notwithstanding the Rangers demanded expedition on the
part of the police official, it required at least half an hour for
him to make his [toilet. At last, with a patient effort, he suc-
ceeded in stretching a splendid kid glove over his immense paw,
and with his gold-headed cane under his arm he stepped into
the street. Where'upon a couple of stalwart Rangers took hold
of him by each arm, and informed him that he was a prisoner.
They conducted him to the great open water ditch that then
crossed San Pedro street at its junction with First. Arriving
there a court-martial was organized, which proceeded to try the
Marshal on a charge of treason and desertion. Of course he
was found guilty, and the military code was read to him from
a greasy pack of " monte cards." After defining the crime, the
penalty was fixed at " cat-hauling in the public water-ditch."
No sooner said than done. A rope was speedily thrown around

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 45

the astonished representative of official pomposity, whose arms
were pinioned, and the irate Bangers amused themselves until
the break of day in dragging the proud dignitary up and down
the water ditch, when they left him more dead than alive
and retired to their barracks. At about noon on the same day
the crestfallen man from Arkansas appeared at the Court of
Justice J. Thompson Burrill, and swore out a warrant for the
arrest of the Hangers, who were accordingly arrested, and ap-
peared for trial on the following day. Kimball H. Dimrnick,
the District Attorney, appeared in vindication of the outraged
majesty of the law, and Tom H , a young merchant, ap-
peared for the accused Bangers. Dimmick and Tom at once
commenced the preliminary legal sparring. Dimrnick was light
on law, and Tom was heavy on big words. Dimmick finally
cornered Tom on a legal proposition, and Tom could only escape
by adjourning Court, which he did by capsizing the Court,
bench and all, whereupon the Bangers went to work and
smashed the tables, broke the chairs, and tore things up gen-
erally, the Court, constable and prosecuting witness promptly
giving leg-bail, and so ended this remarkable episode. And so
ended the official career of that illustrious character, born of
the first great Los Angeles mob. His usefulness as an officer
was at an end. The boys would hoot him on the street, and

•

he was forced to resign.

I will now relate one more incident in the brief official career
of this distinguished character, then I will consign him to the
life of vagabondism that he has led down to the present day.
It was in this way: About May, '53, the Los Angeles bar got
on a bust, in honor of the arrival of an Iowa lawyer, General
Ezra Drown. The bar smiled at the Bella Union bar, and took
it straight and mixed at the " Montgomery." They all in turn
treated at Aleck Gibson's and raided on Nigger alley. They
serenaded on Main street, and finally brought up at Madam
Barrierre's, where the White House now stands, and ordered

46 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

champagne and cigars first, then supper, with champagne and
cigars ad libitum. And then the jolly crowd appointed a chair-
man and commenced giving and responding to each other's
toasts. On their whole rounds they were accompanied by the
pompous Marshal, who pretended to afford his official protec-
tion to the roystering limbs of the law, but really to get a
deluging supply of gratuitous liquid comfort.

About midnight the crowd had become hilariously noisy,
and all wanted to speak at once. Lewis C. Granger had the
floor, and offered as a toast, " The descendants of the French
Huguenots in America." The toast was intended as a com-
pliment to the United States District Attorney, who claimed to
be of " Huguenot origin," although his paternal ancestors were
thought to be of the Hibernian stock. He, however, construed
the toast into an insult, and responded by hurling a tumbler at
the head of Lewis C., and then the North and the South met
in mortal combat. What the result might have been, no one
of that crowd was sober enough to even surmise, had it not
been for the interposition of the officious head of the infantile
city police, whose head and tail was composed of the Marshal
aforesaid, who rushed between the two combatants. Lewis C.
rery adroitly slipped to one side, and the furious United States
legal luminary downed the Arkansas man, and chawed his nose
until it resembled a magnificent pounded and peppered beef-
steak.

On the following day the Marshal appeared at Thompson
Burrill's Court, with his nose in a sling, and had the United
States Attorney arrested on a charge of assaulting an officer in
the discharge of his duty, but the thing was amicably arranged
and the high Federal dignitary did the self-important Los An-
geles official the honor to walk arm in arm with him to the
Bella Union, where they smiled at the bar and swore eternal
friendship.

The author will neither attempt to moralize or criticise, nor

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 47

pass judgment on the action of that vigilance committee; only
that in the minds of unprejudiced persons at the time, the hang-
ing of the poor village cobbler of San Gabriel was considered an
unmitigated and deliberate murder. ^e has ere this, in all
probability, met and confronted his murderers at the judgment
seat of the great Eternal, for the reason that, as the author be-
lieves, the last actor in that outrageous affair has passed away
from the face of the earth. Some may have died in a natural
way, many died in the gutter, others in bloody broils — they all
seemed doomed to miserable ends. All have handed in their
mortal checks, unless, perchance, the gay and pompous official
aforesaid, the hangman, who now walks the face of God's beau-
tiful green earth, a living and hideous mass of human rotten-
ness and festering corruption, shunned even by the canine street
scavengers, viewed not with pity, but with loathing and disgust,
even by the most debased of mankind. Twenty-four years after
his outrageous participation in the bloody drama above de-
scribed, the hangman appeared on the streets of this fair city,
an outcast from society and a beggar for alms. The wheels of
justice revolve slowly, but in this instance they seem to have
got around with remarkable precision. For such is the last of
the first great mob of Los Angeles.

For the week following these extra judicial executions the
town was remarkably quiet, but on the Sunday following I wit-
nessed a sight that if it could be seen now would fill the mind
with loathing and disgust. At the time referred to, 1851-52-
53, the Mission Indians were numerous. They had only been
emancipated from the rule of the Mission fathers a few years
prior to the advent of the Americans, and their number at the
time seemed without limit.

These thousands of Indians had been held in the most rigid
discipline by the Mission fathers, and after their emancipation
by the Supreme Government of Mexico, had been reasonably
well governed by the local authorities, who found in them in-

48 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

dispensable auxiliaries as farmers and harvesters, hewers of
wood and drawers of water, and besides the best horse breakers
and herders in the world, an indispensable adjunct in the man-
agement of the great herds of the country. These Indians
were Christians, docile even to servility, and the best of
laborers. Then came the Americans, followed soon there-
after by the discovery of and wild rush for gold, and the relaxa-
tion for the time of a health} administration of the laws, and
the ruin of those once happy and useful people commenced.
The cultivators of vineyards commenced paying their Indian
peons with aguardiente, a veritable fire-water and no mistake.
The consequence was that on being paid off on Saturday even-
ing, they would meet in great gatherings called peons, and
pass the night in gambling, drunkenness and debauchery.
On Sunday the streets would be crowded from morn till night
with Indians, males and females of all ages, from the girl of
ten or twelve, to the old man $ind woman of 70 or 80.

By four o'clock on Sunday afternoon Los Angeles street from
Commercial to Nigger alley, Aliso street from Los Angeles to
Alameda, and Nigger alley, would be crowded with a mass of
drunken Indians, yelling and fighting. Men and women, boys
and girls, tooth and toe nail, sometimes, and frequently with
knives, but always in a manner that would strike the beholder
with awe and horror.

About sundown the pompous marshal, with his Indian
special deputies, who had been kept in jail all day to keep them
sober, would drive and drag the herd to a big corral in the rear
of Downey Block, where they would sleep away their intoxica-
tion, and in the morning they would be exposed for sale, as
slaves for the week. Los Angeles had its slave mart, as well
as New Orleans and Constantinople — only the slave at Los
Angeles was sold fifty-two times a year as long as he lived,
which did not generally exceed one, two, or three years, under
the new dispensation. They would be sold for a week, and

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 49

bought up by the vineyard men and others at prices ranging
from one to three dollars, one-third of which was to be paid to
the peon at the end of the week, which debt, due for well per-
formed labor, would invariably be paid in " aguardiente," and
the Indian would be made happy until the following Monday
morning, having passed through another Saturday night and
Sunday's saturnalia of debauchery and bestiality. Those
thousands of honest, useful people were absolutely destroyed in
this way. Vineyards were of great profit in those days, and
would be to-day, if we could recall the times as they were be-
fore the conquering Sas!on came with his boasted perfection of
laws, and his much-vaunted " advance civilization."

Surely, we civilized the race of Mission Indians with a refine-
ment known to no other people under the sun.

•

The poor Indians are all gone, the crumbling walls of the
old Missions and the decaying trunks of the vineyards, no
longer profitable when cultivated with honestly compensated
labor, stand silent witnesses of the time long gone by, when
the Indian, though compelled to labor, was happy and content
in viewing the groaning granaries that assured him and his an
ample support.

50 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER III.

More Lynching — Disgraceful Proceedings — Smith and a Mexican are
Whipped on the Plaza — Tossing a Man in a Blanket — A Broken Neck —
Even Change— Thompson Burrill and Dona Concha.— A. Man Gets
Married- -The Jlairless Dog — Jack Powers and His Great Influence —
He defies the Law — Emigrates to Sonora and is Murdered — Alas ! Poor
Jack — Los Angeles the Hot-bed of Revolution — Castro's Pronuncia-
mento — Micheltorena — Gringo Versus Gringo, and the Great Three
Days Battle of Providencia — Blood, "God and Liberty" — Bandini's
Revolution — The Founding of Los Angeles — Navarro's Dream.

SHORT time after the hanging of Reyes Feliz, San-
doval and the others heretofore mentioned, Smith was
arrested at San Gabriel, summarily tried by a hastily
constituted lynch court and sentenced to be hung instanter.
He was accordingly mounted on a Mexican cart, which was
promptly driven under one of the many great oaks there
abounding, a rope was adjusted to his neck, fastened to one
of the branches above, and the goad was about to be applied
to the innocent oxen that were attached to the cart, when old
Taylor, from the Monte, put in an appearance and interposed in
behalf of Smith.

Taylor's influence prevailed, and Smith was turned over to
Constable Frank Baker, I believe, who brought him to town,
and he was duly lodged in jail. The city lynch court there-
upon held a meeting, which was addressed by a burly looking
individual, who was quite emphatic, even to eloquence, in his
denunciations ot the manner in which the law was adminis-
tered ; the great expense that would accrue to the county in
the sham prosecution of felons, the over-taxed people, and all
that sort of stuff. The Speaker himself was a non-taxpayer,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 51

and those who most emphatically agreed with him being of the
same class. It was finally moved and carried that Smith
should be disposed of in an economical way, that is, he should
be at once taken out of jail, given a fair trial, and, if found
guilty, hung; if innocent, turned loose. No sooner said than
acted upon. The eloquent and emphatic speaker aforesaid
constituted himself leader of the mob and started for the jail,
followed by the ragtag and bobtail of the gambling fraternity.
The old adobe house of Dr. Bush, situated on the hill in the
rear of the Lafayette Hotel, was then used as a jail, and
George Whitehorn was jailer. There was a big pine log
extending from end to end of the long room in the said house,
with staples driven into it at intervals of three or four feet, to
which were chained the prisoners, whose feet were shackled
with cross chains, with a center chain about a foot long
fastened to the staple and pine log aforesaid, so that the only
chance of escape would have been for the prisoners to walk off
with the log, and it was a great wonder they didn't do it,
because they were strung out on that log like a string of fresh
fish. That was a gay old pioneer jail. George made some
show of resistance, but was soon overpowered, the keys taken
away from him. the door opened, the staple drawn out of the
pine log and Smith was marched down town and placed under
guard in the little adobe house before referred to. A com-
mittee was at once appointed to take testimony, and by this
time night had set in. They proved nothing whatever against
Smith, although he said in old times in Sacramento, in 1850,
when the great horse market was in full blast at the corner of
Sixth and K streets, he used to go out and drive in immigrant
stock to be sold at auction, "but then," he said, "everybody
did the same, you know."

At two o'clock on the following day the committee announced
themselves as ready to report, and the herald with the dinner
bell went round proclaiming that there was to be a meeting of
the people at the Court House.

52 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

By four o'clock the crowd had assembled, the court was
organized, and the evidence against Smith was formally read.

Then said the President : " Gentlemen, what is your pleas-
ure?" A fellow elevated himself and said : " I move that
Smith be taken to the Plaza and given fifty lashes on the bare
back and then turned loose."

The proposition was voted down and Smith complacently
smiled.

Charley Norris then moved that Smith be given eighty-five
lashes on the bare back and be turned over to the United States
officers at Jurupa as a deserter. Unanimously carried.

About this time a gambler came in from Nigger Alley
having in custody a Mexican who had severely cut a pie vendor
with a knife, because the boy had refused him credit. The
court proposed hanging him forthwith when a chivalrously in-
clined gambler suggested that fifty lashes would be a sufficient
punishment. So the court voted him eighty-five, and took up
its line of march to Aleck Gibson's, on the plaza. An Indian
then put in an appearance with an armfull of stout willow
switches, and the gentlemen were invited to shed their linen.
Then the Mexican culprit dramatically came to the front and
begged the privilege of being whipped first, saying that he was
a man of honor, was no thief, had only used his knife when
insulted, and he thought he was entitled to that much consid-
eration. The gentlemen appointed to carry into execution
the sentence of the court graciously granted the request, and
the hidalgo, stripped, was tied up to a wooden column in front
of the house and the Indian stepped forward with an air of
intense satisfaction and gave the " Jente de razon " a most
unmerciful whipping, to the great delight of the assembled
patriots. The Mexican bore the punishment with the most
stoical fortitude. He then quietly resumed his rayment,
"smiled," that is, he took a drink furnished gratuitously, and
remarked :

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 53

" Now I will have the pleasure of seeing this d — d gringo
whipped."

Smith, whose time had now arrived, came forward with his
shackles and chains still on and said, "Gentlemen, I am an
American; and it is disgrace enough to be publicly whipped,
but surely you will not have a gentleman whipped by an
Injun. If there is an American present who will be kind
enough to come forward and lay them on, I give my word
of honor not to bear him any ill-will but promise to be always

grateful for the favor."

The gamblers present accordingly made up a purse of $16

and offered it to any white man who would administer the cas-
tigation. A young man who had just got in from across the
plains and had evidently heard of the ounce per day to be earned
in this laud of gold, and this being his first chance to earn an
ounce stepped forward, accepted the gold and vigorously laid
on the willows, to the evident satisfaction of all concerned save
Smith, who begged to be permitted to take an occasional pull
at his flask, which, thanks to the generosity of old Hodges, had
been well filled with brandy and gunpowder. In the mean-
time some gamblers who felt a disgust at the white man who
would do such a service for money, prepared themselves with a
strong Mexican blanket, and, seizing the whipper, they com-
menced tossing him up a la Sancho Panza. Every toss he
went higher and higher, until he came down so hard that he
broke his neck, as was at the time believed.

Some charitably disposed persons took the poor fellow, it
then being night, down to Downey & McFarland's drug store,
at the corner of Los Angeles and Commercial streets, and Mac
went to work and straightened up and bandaged his neck. He
was permitted to sleep on the floor of the drug store until
morning. Mac slept in the back room. In the morning he
got up with a very stiff neck, and after looking around he
ventured to inquire the amount of his indebtedness. Mac,

54 REMINISCENCES OB' A RANGER.

who was ignorant of the extent of his resources, informed him
that the charge was "one ounce," $16. After fumbling
around his pockets he unearthed his well-earned money and
handed it over, remarking, "even change," and demurely took
his departure. This was a most disgraceful affair, and I
believe the foremost of the lynchers felt ashamed of it. So
crestfallen did they look at what promised to be an interesting
hanging that old Dimmick, the prosecuting attorney, took cour-
age and threatened to have the leaders indicted for stealing the
irons out of the jail.

It afterwards turned out that Smith, who had been turned
loose with the public property hanging to his legs, fouud his
way to an up-town blacksmith shop, and sold them to the
smith, who relieved him of his custodianship of the county's
property. The failure to get up a first-class lynching cast a
gloom over the city, from which it did not recover for near a
month, at the expiration of which time they started in one
Sunday morning, two men being assassinated and three hung
before the bull-fighting commenced in the afternoon.

One of the assassinations I remember to have been in this
wise : Two Hidalgos were walking arm-in-arm, down Main
street, engaged in the most friendly converse, when one acci-
dentally offended the other. The latter drew his knife, and,
without giving his victim the least warning, gave him a rear
thrust to the heart. This happened about 9 o'clock A. M.
Judge lynch was at the time holding his court at the usual
place, engaged in the trial of two others, and the aforesaid
assassin was at once arrested, tried, sentenced and hung before
the body of his murdered victim was yet cold. He made a
very interesting speech, thanked his executioners for their
kindness, said it was all right, and that was the end of it.

Those were fast times, let me assure the reader — whom I
have most certainly worried by this time. But the fact is the
object of this story being to show how the Angels amused

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 55

themselves in those happy days, and let the subject be pleasing
or the reverse, it must, forsooth, be told.

The last gala day referred to, I believe, happened about the
latter part of December, 1852, and was followed by a man
getting married. " Nothing strange in a man's getting mar-
ried," the reader will say ; but there the reader is mistaken,
and I will proceed to explain :

George Thompson Burrill, the "over punctilious . man,"
so-called by our lamented local historian, came to Los Angeles
from Chihuahua, accompanied by a full-breasted, square-
rigged, fast-sailing sort of craft, if the reader will permit a
nautical expression, called Dona Concha.

The over punctilious judge was a man of great gravity ; tall,
lean and dignified, clean-shaved face, except the upper lip,
which carried a moustache which would have made a graceful
pendant for a Pasha's banner. The Judge also brought with
him one of those abominable, sleek, hairless dogs, that, in lieu
of children, received the united affection of the dignified Judge
and the frail Concha. The Judge was very fond of Dona Con-
cha, as he was also fond of the dog. The frail Concha divided
her affections between the Judge, the dog, and Henry Lewis,
Gabe Allen's partner in the old Star Hotel that stood where
now stands the Lanfranco block. Like all true lovers, the
Judge was blinded by his affection, and to gain a little relaxa-
tion from the cares of public office, left the frail Concha in
charge of his domestic world, and the hairless dog, and betook
him to San Pedro to sniff the breeze fresh from the briny bil-
lows. Very soon after the Judge's departure, Dona Concha,
arrayed in the very extreme of Chihuahua fashion, made an
assignation with the connubial Lewis at the Parochial Church,
and Father Anacleto promptly united the devoted lovers in the
holy bonds of matrimony. Somehow or other Nigger Alley got
wind of what was going on, and Nigger Alley was not on the
marry. Nigger Alley didn't believe in such nonsense, and

55 REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER.

when the happy couple emerged from the sacred precincts, they
were confronted with the outraged denizens of Nigger Alley,
fully bent on mischief. The frail fair one escaped the fury of
this anti-nuptial mob and took refuge in the church. Henry
succeeded for a time in eluding the grasp of the outraged
Democracy and in reaching, and almost getting through Nigger
Alley, having been unfortunately headed off from Main street.
One division of the mob followed in hot pursuit, while the
other flanked around and cut off the possibility of egress from
the narrow street. Henry, driven to the wall, took refuge in
Tao's gambling house, on the old Coronel corner, and attempted
to barricade himself therein ; failing in which he surrendered at
discretion and offered to stand the liquor for the whole crowd,
which only tended to further infuriate the outraged decency of
the classic quarter, and they let into poor Henry with eggs,
rotten apples, and every conceivable offensive missile. In the
meantime tar and feathers were called for, but by some fortu-
nate circumstance the poor fellow was enabled to escape through
the back door and over walls to Main street, and thence to the
strongholds of his own castle.

The population, that is to say the Nigger Alley portion of
it, felt itself disgraced. The idea of one of them, and Henry
was one of them, marrying, was an absurdity, an insult not to
be tolerated. The Star Hotel was ruined, and to save its
credit, Henry was forced to withdraw from the co-partnership.

The Los Angeles world was on the qui vive to know the
result when the Judge returned, anticipating blood, murder
and dire vengeance. In due time the Judge did return, and
old S — tt appointed himself a committee of one to break the
doleful news to the unfortunate man. The stage drove up to
the Bella Union, and S — tt saluted the Judge, and inviting
him to smile at the bar, took him delicately to one side and
said :

" Thompson, did you hear the news ?"

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 57

"What news?" said the Judge.

"It is so dreadful I am afraid to tell it," said S — tt.

"Does it concern me? Has any one sued me?" said the
Judge.

" Worse than that," said old S— tt.

" Out with it," said the Judge.

"Well, then, if I must I must," said old S— tt. "Well,
then, this is what is the matter; the whole town has been in an
uproar. While you were absent, Dona Concha ran away from
your house and married Henry Lewis."

"Did she take that little dog?" gravely inquired the Judge,
while quietly sipping his cock-tail.

" What dog ?" said S— tt.

"Why, little Santa Ana," replied the Judge. " To tell you
the truth, I had evil forebodings concerning him, and I must
go and see about the dear little fellow. Adios!" and the man
of punctilio was gone, and so is the story.

The most noted character, probably, in all California at the
time referred to, '51, '52 and '53, and especially in the Southern
counties, was Jack Powers. Jack was an Irishman by birth,
and came to California with Stephenson's New York Volun-
teers. When I arrived in Los Angeles Jack was here, although
he properly resided in Santa Barbara. Jack was a great gam-
bler and when he walked through a crowd of gamblers it was
with the air of a lion walking among rats. Gifted with mental
qualities of the highest order, with the manners of the true
gentleman, with a form and face physically perfect, with a
boldness and dash that made him a leader among men, Jack
Powers, under favorable circumstances might have attained to
the most honorable distinction ; as it was, he wielded a great
influence not only among the gambling fraternity and the
Spanish population, over whom he lorded it, but he made his
influence felt at the State Capital, where he was held in high
esteem by a succession of Governors, having been on the warmest

58 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

terms of friendship with Governors McDougall and Bigler.
At San Francisco Jack was the acknowledged peer of the most
prominent, and had he aspired to political preferment, he could
have chosen between a seat in the National Congress and the
helm of State.

Jack was a power in this land. In Los Angeles Jack ruled
the gamblers. In Los Angeles the gamblers, to the number of
about four hundred, absolutely ruled the roost for a succession
of years. Jack was not a politician however. Jack was a first
class sport, owned his own ranch, kept hounds, fast horses and
a large number of retainers, and was a lord in the land. Jack
wielded such a power that at one time he maintained an army
of followers at his own expense, and boldly defied the authori-
ties. As before stated, Jack owned a ranch, which, like all
other ranches at the time, was swamped in litigation. The
Sheriff held a writ of ejectment against Jack which was resisted;
an attempt was made to arrest him in Santa Barbara; his friends
rallied to his support and the attempt failed. Jack and his
friends then seized the only piece of artillery in the town and
took up their line of march to Jack's ranch, some miles distant.
W. "W. Twist, the Sheriff, also one of Stephenson's Volunteers,
summoned the power of the county, attacked Jack, and attempt-
ed to take the gun away from him. The Sheriff was defeated,
some two or three persons being killed and others wounded.
Jack safely reached his ranch, provisioned and fortified it for a
siege. He had one sure enough cannon; he took the stove-pipe
from his kitchen, mounted it, cut embrasures through the thick
walls of his house, made many Quaker demonstrations, and,
although besieged for days by the foiled Sheriff, he successfully
defied the laws, and the Sheriff was forced to raise the siege.
This occurred in January, 1853 — and for a long time thereafter
when Jack would visit the capital of the county, he was fol-
lowed by a troop of retainers that assured his freedom from
arrest.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 59

Nordhoff refers to an interview and conversation between
himself and Ned Beale in regard to Jack Powers as one of the
robbers of early times, and although Jack was the lord and
head of all the bad characters in the southern counties, the
writer who knew him well, has no hesitation in saying that he
believes Jack Powers to have been as incapable of personally
committing a robbery as either of the gentlemen referred to as
discussing his character. Jack, however, outlived his influence;
or, better say. he outlived his followers. In 1856, when the
blood-hounds of the San Francisco Vigilance Committee pur-
sued Ned McGowan to Santa Barbara, Ned was only saved
through the influence and shrewdness of Jack, who necessarily
fell under the baneful influence of the great Vigilance Commit-
tee. In 1857 Jack stood almost alone ; his followers had fallen
off; the influence of the gamblers had gone. Standing in fear
of the law, that in the zenith of his glory he had defied, he
concluded to fly the country he could no longer rule. He
accordingly emigrated to Sonora where those gentle and prac-
tical people, who so summarily disposed of poor Crabbe and his
followers, converted Jack to the most profitable possible use as
they thought, that is to say, they chopped him up and fed him to
their pigs ! Alas, poor Jack ! He was full of a noble gene-
rosity, and deserving of a better fate.

A great many sensational scribblers have tried to hold Jack
up as an out-and-out highwayman ; others have maintained
that he was the veritable Joaquin Murieta ; but neither is cor-
rect. He was, as I have described him, a man born to be
prominent in that sphere of life to which fate may have
assigned him.

The venerable scribe who writes ancient history for us says :

" In February, 1845, a bloodless battle, of three days' con-
tinuance, was fought between Governor Micheltorena, at the
head of the troops which accompanied him to California from

60 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Mexico, and General Jost Castro, at the head of citizens and
residents of the Southern part of California."

Although this military chronicler was too young, and too
far removed from the battlefield referred to, and personally
knew' nothing about that grand, historical event, the truth of
history demands that he should take issue with the old gentle-
man who gave to the world the above scrap of history, and
maintain on the best of hearsay evidence that it was not a
bloodless battle, but on that memorable occasion the virgin soil
of San Fernando was moistened with the blood of slaughtered
innocence. This is the way this most veracious writer came to
know something about the great battle of Providencia, fought
on the Providencia Ranch, some ten or eleven miles up the
Los Angeles river.

Some few weeks after my arrival at the Angels, an enthusi-
astic citizen said to me :

"Los Angeles has a history, sir. It always was an important
place, sir."

" It seems to me," I replied, " that Los Angeles is making a
history very fast."

"Los Angeles for half a century, sir, has been the hot-bed
of revolution, sir," said the citizen.

The writer then inquired of a very honorable kinsman, who
had dwelt many years in the hot-bed, to see what information
he could elicit on the question of revolution, and lo ! I struck
a perfect historical bonanza. First of all, he told of the great
revolution against Micheltorena, in which he had individually
participated.

To commence, then : Castro pronounced. That is to say,
he called the Governor hard names ; called his chivalrous fol-
lowers vagabonds and cholos, and then wound up with a grand
flourish about "Independence, God and Liberty," and the
revolution was on its legs.

The Governor held his court at Monterey, and when informed

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 61

of Castro's pronunciamento, took immediate steps to squelch
the rebellion. He at once mobilized his regulars and called on
old John Sutter, who responded with a force of drilled and
disciplined Indians. He also organized a Gringo contingent,
composed of the American settlers in the Sacramento Valley,
in and around San Jose, San Francisco and Monterey — mostly
the same men who, a short time thereafter, raised the " Bear
Flag " and defied all Mexico. With this respectable following
the valiant Governor buckled on his armor, mounted his little
prancing mustang and marched in hot haste to subjugate the
rebellious angels.

In the meantime, Castro was alive to the immense respon-
sibility he had assumed — the responsibility of rebelling against
the most enlightened and most powerful nation under the sun.
He sounded the clarion note of war; he floated his banner to
the breeze; he marshaled around him an angelic host who swore
to carry that banner on to victory, if they had to ride through
blood to their bridle-bits. 'He also mustered to his support the
Gringo element of the southern counties, and when the news
was brought in that the invading army had broken camp at
San Fernando, the great hero of the revolution marshaled his
chivalric followers and marched forth to meet the tyrant and
conquer, even if forced to sacrifice the last Gringo in. his army.
To the American reader who is unfamiliar with the Spanish
language, it is about time to explain the meaning of the term
Gringo. " Gringo," in its literal signification, means ignoramus.
For instance: An American who had not yet learned to eat Chili
peppers stewed in grease, throw the lasso, contemplate the
beauties of nature from the sunny side of an adobe wall, make
a first-class cigar out of a corn husk, wear open-legged panta-
loons, with bell buttons, dance on one leg, and live on one meal
a week. Now the reader knows what a terrible thing it was in
early days to be a Gringo.

This meek and humble historian has felt all the mortification,

62 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

humiliation and disgrace of being a Gringo. If the reader has
been so spared, then the writer congratulates him — because it
is an awful calamity to be a Gringo.

Castro put his Gringos on the skirmish line. Micheltorena
not to be outdone in patriotic sacrifice and first-class general-
ship, put his Gringos on the skirmish line, and but for a for-
tuitous circumstance it would have been Gringo meet Gringo,
and the tug of war. The armies had commenced strategic
movements; the skirmish lines had advanced and the ball was
about to open, when a voice spake from the skirmish line of
the Governor; both Jines advanced under cover of the trees and
underbrush that abounded on the battlefield. The voice spake
as follows: "Hello, Read, is that you?"

" Why, yes, McKinley, is that you? " Then another voice :
" Well, by Jove, here's Laughlin, and there's Graham ! What,
Bell, are you here, too?" and so the two skirmish lines met
and recognized in each other old friends — fellow countrymen in
a foreign land about to murder each other, all for God, Liberty
and the Constitution. Then said one of Castro's Gringos to
one of the Governor's Gringos, all having shook hands and sat
down to see what the difference between them really was,
" What in the name of the great grizzly brought you here to
fight us? "

Said the Governor's Gringos : " We are fighting for the
Constitution. Why are you arrayed against the Government?"

Then said Castro's Gringos, all at once : " We don't care a
d — n for the Government, or for Castro either ; but we know
that if Micheltorena enters Los Angeles we, the foreigners, will
have to pay the fiddler in the way of sacked stores and forced
loans. And now you see what we are fighting for."

" They are right," said all of the Governor's Gringos. So
the result was the two skirmish lines concluded to withdraw
from the conflict and let the descendants of the glorious con-
quistadores fight it out in their own way, and that the united

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 63

Gringos would see that, whichever army prevailed, no stores
should be sacked, or that no forced loans should be levied on any
foreign resident of Los Angeles. This unlooked for union gave
to the contending factions a different complexion, and these
united Gringos withdrew to a sylvan retreat on the banks of
the river, and the commissary mule of the Los Angeles Grin-
gos, well packed, among other good things, with a good supply
of Wolfskill's best wine, was brought up, and the two skirmish
lines resolved themselves into an old-fashioned picnic and
patiently awaited the results of the day. Little was done on
that day. The next morning, however, the battle began in regu-
lar Mexican style. Castro opened with artillery; the Governor
replied with his heaviest metal. The battle raged with terrific
fury for two full days, until finally blood was spilled, honor was
satisfied, God and Liberty had vindicated itself. The Consti-
tution was safe. Manuel Micheltorena, General of Brigade,
and Governor of Alta California, lost a mule killed in that
terrific three days' conflict, and what more could be expected ?
He did his duty like the brave General that he was. The best
blood of Mexico had appease* the wrath of the rebellion, (cer-
tainly the best blood shed in that battle) ; the Governor agreed
to withdraw from the country and the revolution was a grand
success.

Another grand flourish of trumpets, an invocation to God
and Liberty, and Don Pio donned the official toga, and became
the dispenser of unnumbered leagues of the grand domain of
California. Many of our best citizens sigh for the good old
times, when revolutions were cheap, and there were no taxes to
pay ; and the writer respects the wisdom of the philosophical
Spaniard when he vigorously maintains that the revolutions
enjoyed under Mexican rule, were far preferable to the high
taxes under the Gringo Government.

Here comes another revolution anterior to the one above

64 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

related. The following I borrow from the writings of Charles
H. Forbes, Esq.:

Bandini's revolution speaks successfully for itself.

In the year 1830 General Manuel Victoria was sent from
Mexico to relieve General Jose Maria Echandia. who was
then acting as Comandante of the Oalifornias.

In the year 1831, owing to the arbitrary rule of Victoria, a
few citizens in San Diego, viz.: Don Juan Bandini, Don Pio
Pico, Don Jose Antonio Carrillo, Abel Stearns and seven
others, matured a plan to overthrow Victoria's government,
and for that purpose held several meetings. At their assem-
blage on the 29th of November, 1831, at the house of Bandini,
they armed themselves, and in the evening surprised the guard
at the Presidio (Fort) of San Diego and took possession
thereof, with all arms, ammunition and cannons, and made all
the soldiers prisoners. Don Jose Antonio Carrillo, with five
men, was left in charge of the Presidio, and Bandini, Pico,
Stearns and the four others went to the residences of the officers
under Victoria, took them prisoners and brought them to the
house of Don Pablo de la Porting who was then Comandante
of the Presidio under Victoria, and he too was made prisoner.
All being together, the plan was read to them, and on their
promising on their honor not to oppose the Bandini party, they
were allowed to go to their respective houses. On the 1st of
December, 1831, General Echandia was asked to take the head
of the little party against Victoria, which he accepted, and
spoke at some length, explaining the injustice of Victoria. A
salute, was fired from the Presidio, which was responded to by
all of the American shipping in the bay.

On the 2d of December, 1831, Don Pablo de la Portilla and
all the other officers joined the little party, and on that very
day Don Pablo was sent with twenty-five men, well armed and
equipped, to take possession of the Pueblo de ios Angeles. On
the 5th the rest of the party — Bandini, Pico, Stearns, Echandia,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 65

soldiers and citizens — left San Diego to join Don Pablo, and on
the following day, the 6th, a courier met them with a letter
from Don Pablo stating that he had taken possession of the
Pueblo de Los Angeles, put the Alcalde, Vicente Sanchez, in
double uons, liberated all of the prisoners, and that Victoria
was at San Fernando with forty men. On the 5th Don Pablo
de la Portilla met Victoria near the pueblo; and when in hear-
ing distance Victoria ordered Don Pablo to come to him, to
which Don Pablo responded by ordering Victoria to halt. Vic
toria, enraged, said, "A mi no se manda hacer alto," "I am not
the man to be halted," and gave orders to his men to charge
and fire. Noticing some reluctance on the part of his men he
said that he was not accustomed to fight with men that wore
petticoats. Whereupon the brave Captain Don Romualdo
Pacheco, father of Ex-Governor Pacheco, answered that he did
not wear such appendages, and drawing his sword called to his
men to follow him. Jose" Maria Abila then sallied forth from
the San Diego side and, with a small derringer, shot and killed
Captain Romualdo Pacheco, and with his lance wounded Gen-
eral Victoria, throwing him oif his horse.

One of Victoria's soldiers shot Abila, bringing him down,
when another of Victoria's men advanced to finish Abila, but
before he got to him Abila drew another derringer and shot
him, bringing him down. General Victoria then finished Abila
with his sword.

At this stage of the battle the San Diego forces retreated
back to Los Angeles, and on arriving there disbanded, with the
exception of a few who remained with Don Jose Antonio Carillo
at the "cuartel" soldiers' quarters. Later in the evening
Victoria arrived and halted in the upper portion of the Pueblo.
As soon as Don Jose Antonio Carrillo knew of the arrival of
Victoria, he in person commenced to beat the drum as if calling
the soldiers together. On hearing the beat of the drum Vic-
toria decided not to enter the Pueblo, but sent a communica-
5

66 REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER.

tion to Don Pablo de la Portilla, stating that he was ready to
turn over the "mando" to him. And here ended Victoria's
government. Don Rotnualdo Pacheco was buried on the 6th
of December, in the Catholic Cemetery, and Abila on the 7th.

Upon the arrival of Bandini, Pico, Echandia, and the rest of
the party from San Diego, about the 8th or 9th, Don Pio Pico
was proclaimed Governor, and took the oath of office in the
plaza, in front of the old church, one of the men entering the
church by the round window in the front and bringing out the
crucifix for the purpose.

Don Luis Zamorano, who at this time was in Monterey,
upon hearing of the defeat of Victoria, raised a party against
the San Diegans, proclaimed himself ruler, and sent down to
Los Angeles one hundred and sixteen men under the command
of Lieutenant Juan Maria Ybarra, who took possession of the
Pueblo de Los Angeles.

The San Diego party having left for San Diego soon after
the defeat of Victoria, Ybarra had no opposition, but upon
hearing of Zamorano's movements they were not idle. They
began to gather up their forces, and under the command of
Captain Barroso, sent about fifty men, with orders to sta-
tion themselves at the San Gabriel river, at the place called
Paso de Bartolo, and await re-inforcoments, as they should be
sent to him.

Bandini, Pico -and two or three others soon followed, and as
they came along gathered up all they could, sending couriers to
the mountains to get the Indians to join them, to which they
responded, gathering in great numbers. Before the arrival of
General Echandia the forces at San Gabriel river were about
1,300 or 1,400 strong. Of these about 300 were white and
about 1,100 were Indians, all of them mounted and with lances
and bows and arrows.

On the day previous to the arrival of Echandia from San
Diego, a communication was sent to Ybarra by Captain

BEMINJSCENCES OF A RANGER. 67

Barroso to the effect that if he (Ybarra) should not vacate
the Pueblo de Los Angeles by nine o'clock next morning he
should be obliged to do it by force of arms. Ybarra heeded
the order, and left that very night for the north to report to his
chief at Monterey. Gen. Echandia, Bandini, Pico and Cap-
tain Barroso entered the Pueblo de Los Angeles with flying
colors, and this revolution was a success.

From my historical bonanza other matters were extracted,
the most important pf which was the fact of Holy inspiration
being the cause that induced the founding of the beautiful city,
subject matter of the following story, the truth of which is
beyond the power of contradiction :

Two months and a hundred years ago three Spanish
Dragoons, followed by an Indian leading a sumpter mule,
ascended the highest hill or bluff overlooking the present site of
Los Angeles, and the Rio Porciuncula, now called Los Angeles
river. Having attained the rugged summit, the three soldiers
dismounted, and at the order of Sergeant Navarro, the elder,
unsaddled and picketed their horses, placed their lances " en pa-
ve lion," over which they threw their blankets and thus formed a
sort of tent. The sumpter mule having been relieved of its
burden, and a "bota" of vino Catalan having been taken there-
from, the Sergeant drew from the pocket of his doublet a
small silver cup, filled it, and quaffing the delicious fluid of
Catalonia passed the bota and cup to Corporal Quintero who, in
like manner, passed the canteen and cup to the soldier, Ban-
negas, who having followed the example of his superiors, the
three seated themselves on their "armas de pelo," cigarritos
were produced and the Sergeant with his mecha struck a light,
and in silence they smoked. The beauty of the scenery that
surrounded them was beyond the power of description. Their
faces were turned toward the dark and craggy mountains that
overhung the San Gabriel mission, whose white walls and red
roofs could be seen in the midst of the sea of sylvan green that

68 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

surrounded it. The plains and rolling hills had discarded their
mantle of green and donned their sere robes of summer.
Gazing toward the sun, which had now marked the first
segment in the circle of its journey, plains, hills, forests, lakes,
rivers, valleys, and towering mountains in splendid panorama
met their wondering vision. To the rear of where the three
warriors sat and intermediate to the line that marked the verge
of the unknown sea in crescent shape lay in silent beauty the
shimmering waters of a beautiful lake sheltered from the rude
blasts of the ocean by a rampart of kind and protecting hills.
To the left for leagues could be traced the serpentine windings
of the river, as it swept through the valley toward the western
horizon. Obliquely to their rear and looking southward to the
sea the waters of the Porciuncula swept by like a silver stripe
in a ribbon of green, shaded by the umbrageous white-armed
sycamore and the more verdant cottonwood, under whose pro-
tecting shades gamboled countless herds of deer and antelope,
while still beyond are to be seen rocky islands in the ocean
posted like knights in armor guarding the portals of Paradise.

Having in silence taken in this vision of beauty, Corporal
Quintero was the first to speak. "Sergeant," said he, "my
old and tried friend, at first I greatly marvelled at your leading
us to this fatiguing summit, but I now thank you for it. You
have been here before, and we having shared with you the hard
knocks of many campaigns, you wished to share, with us the
pleasures of this foresight of Paradise. When did you first
discover this magnificent view? ' It exceeds in beauty anything
I ever beheld, even in our beautiful Spain."

"My friend," answered the Sergeant, "it is a strange tale,
but true. In a dream, or vision, I beheld this Terrestrial Para-
dise. Thirty years ago, when yet a boy, before I had buckled
on the armor of Spain, approaching my native city of Granada,
I stopped to rest on the famous summit called ' The Moor's
Last Sigh/ and while drinking in the magnificence of Granada,

REMINISCENCES OF A EANGEE. 69

the beauty of the Vega and the silver sheen of the Guadalquiver
in its serpentine windings, I fell into a sound slumber, and in
my dreams was transported to this very spot, and instead of my
armed comrades, as now, our Blessed Lady, the Angel Queen,
stood beside me in a halo of glory, and, after pointing out the
surrounding loveliness of Nature, she indicated the spot below
us whereon I should found a city that in time should rival and
eclipse in magnificence and beauty our filmed Granada. That
the valley before us would in wealth and productiveness exceed
the Vega, and the river that sweeps the valley at our feet
would become the theme of song and story even as the sweet
Guadalquiver.

" 'Found thou here a city/ said the Queen, and in a radiance
of glory she ascended from the earth and left me alone. I
awoke and found it to be a dream — no ! a vision ! Such a
vision as that of St. John. The vision as we now behold it,
save the presence of the queen, has ever been before me.
While tossed on the waves of the ocean, I could see it. It
was before me on the battlefield, in camp, at the guard post,
on the march, ever present, asleep or awake ; and now, Cor-
poral, with the h^lp of Our Lady, the favor of God, the
permission of Don Felipe, and the assistance of the most
reverend, the Father President, I am going to found the city
NUESTRA SENORA KEINA DE Los ANGELES. Long have I
served the King ; thou, Corporal, thou, brave Bannegas, hast
grown gray in his service ; to-morrow, comrades, let us to His
Excellency, Don Felipe de Neve, beg our discharge, gather the
few that are free, procure the proper authority, and found a
city for Our Lady. I comprehend your thoughts, comrades.
I know we are poor. Imperial Rome had a small beginning ;
so will ours, but there must be a starting point for every enter-
prise; ours will have the special protection of our Lady Queen,
the favor of God, and will grow to be one of the brightest
jewels of the earth. Comrades, shall we proceed ? "

70 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

The Corporal and Bannegas having become possessed of the
spirit of the inspiration, with the Sergeant, pledged themselves
to the enterprise, and having enjoyed a hearty repast and
agreed upon the point whereon to locate the city of Los
Angeles, they saddled their horses, struck their tent, and the
Indian having repacked the sumpter mule, the small cavalcade
took up its line of march to San Gabriel.

On the day following the meeting on the bluff, after mass,
guard-mounting and the other military duties at San Gabriel,
the good Sergeant ISTavarro followed by the corporal and Ban-
negas, presented themselves before Don Felipe de Neve, Gover-
nor and Military Comandante of California, laid before him
their plans and begged their discharge from the military service
of Spain. They, in addition to long service in other parts of
the world, had been ten years in California.

At first the Governor was disposed to discourage the founda-
tion of a city, and inquired of the Sergeant where he would
procure his " Pobladores."

The Sergeant was prepared for the question, and informed
him that himself, the Corporal and Bannegas made three.
Then he counted five others at San Gabriel, two at San Diego,
and two at San Juan Capistrano, all of whom would join in
forming the settlement. The Father President of the missions
was then consulted, who having promised material and spiritual
aid, on the 26th day of August, 1781, Don Felipe de Neve
signed the order directing the foundation of the pueblo, and on
the 5th of September, one hundred years ago, the war-scarred
veteran, Navarro, bearing the image of Nuestra Seiiora La
Eeina de Los Angeles, followed by Corporal Quintero with
the unfurled banner of Spain, Bannegas carrying the cross to
be erected on the Plaza of the new city. Then came the nine
other founders followed by the women and children to the num-
ber of thirty-six. The mission fathers, the neophytes and nuns
of San Gabriel were present, the Governor and military, less

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

71

the guard, were on the ground to add to the pomp and ceremony
of the occasion.

Mid the blare of trumpet, beat of drum and the chant of t he-
priests, the cross was erected, Mass duly solemnized, the Plaza
was marked out and the procession of priests, nuns, soldiers,
women, children and Indians marched in joyful, yet solemn
procession to celebrate the birth of the new city, Queen of the
Angels, after which the Governor, the military, the mission
fathers, the neophytes and nuns departed for the mission, leav-
ing the brave Sergeant, the Corporal, the soldier Bannegas,
their nine coadjutors, their wives and their children in quiet
possession of the new born city.

72 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER IV.

The Most Useful Man and How He Played it on Friar Juan, of Agua
Mansa — His Duel with General Magruder — Juan Largo Versus Juan
Ghapo — A Wonderful Lawsuit — Myron Norton, Don Jose, and the
Mixed Jury — Cobarrubias.

INE of my first acquaintances made in the Angelic city

1 [f was Doctor •, a most noted character in his day,

and he forcibly verified the old adage that " every dog
has his day." The Doctor came to California as hospital
steward in Stephenson's Pioneer Regiment, which, I am
inclined to believe, was the Esculapian fountain from which
the learned Doctor drew his first draughts of medical wisdom.
The renowned Doctor was a '-'most useful man," to quote the
language of our lamented local historian, and filled many
important offices in his day, among which were those of
Deputy Sheriff, Constable, Court Interpreter, Xotary Public,
Town-Crier, Auctioneer, Representative to the State Legisla-
ture, and Postmaster. The Doctor first distinguished himself
as a local Democratic politician, and made himself prominent,
and this is hpw it was :

In the Presidential canvass of 1852, thw two parties, Whig
and Democrat, were warmly arrayed one against the other.
The Democratic outlook was good, except in one particular
precinct, that of Jurupa — and it is here proper to say that Los
Angeles County at that time embraced all the territory of
San Bernardino, the division having been made in 1854. Old
Louis Roubideaux was the lord of Jurupa, that is, he owned
and occupied the Jurupa Rancho, and he was a Whig, and
could not be won over in any way. The case seemed hopeless,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 73

and the doctor was sent out with his saddle-bags full of Dem-
ocratic tickets to act as a forlorn hope in the cause of the
General who threw his horse over his head. Then and there
was where the transcendent genius of the embryo politican
cropped out. About half way from Jurupa, which was then a
military post, to San Bernardino, was situated the most beau-
tiful little settlement I ever saw. It was called "Agua
Mansa," meaning gentle water, and was composed entirely of
immigrants from Kew Mexico, numbering some 200 souls —
simple, good souls they were, too, primitive in their style of
living, kind and hospitable to strangers, rich in all that went
to make people happy and content, never having leen, up to
that time, vexed by the unceremonious calls of the Tax Col-
lector, owing allegiance to none save the simple, kind-hearted
old priest who looked after their spiritual welfare, with peace
and plenty surrounding them, the good people of Agua Mansa
went to make as contented and happy a people as could be
found in the universe. In the winter of 1862 a flood in the
Santa Ana river swept away their houses, gardens, orchards,
vineyards, in fact all of their splendid agricultural lands,
leaving nothing save a hideous plain of black boulders and
cobble-stones to mark the place where once stood this modern,
miniature Eden, which I would fain describe.

There must have been at least fifty voters at Agua Mansa,
which had been designated as the voting place for the Jurupa
precinct, and to" this place hied the noble Doctor as the avant
courier of American civilization, to give this primitive people
their first lesson in the mysteries of American citizenship.

The doctor was a New Yorker, and may have had past expe-
rience in the management of elections. In this instance, he not
only proved himself an adept, but a perfect master of the busi-
ness. Arriving at Agua Mansa, he dismounted, tied his hungry
mustang, divested himself of his leather Mexican leggins and
jingling spurs, and with the -sacred saddle-bags on his arm,

74 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

with solemn step and downcast eyes, he bent his way to the
little adobe church that stood on a mound in the center of the
quiet village. Arriving at the door he piously uncovered, reve-
rently crossed himself, entered and prostrated himself in front
of the humble altar, and was then and there discovered by the
simple old priest, who sprinkled him with holy water and offered
him sweet words of consolation. Within the next hour the
Doctor informed the priest that his piety (the priest's, not
the Doctor's) had a world-wide fame, that in the distant land
of New York the sacred name of Friar Juan, of Agua Mansa,
was a household word among all good Catholics, and he, the
Doctor had made a pilgrimage hither to invoke the prayers of
the saintly Juan for the repose of the soul of his mother, (the
Doctor's mother, not the priest's,) at which period the Doctor
slipped a "slug" into the palm of the astonished Juan.

Suffice it to say that prayers and masses were the order of
the day, and on the following morning, at the breakfast table,
the Doctor informed the priest that an election would be held
on that day for President of the United States ; that one can-
didate, General Scott, was a great heretic, and was the tyrant
who made war on the Catholics of Mexico ; and that it would
be a great calamity to the Catholic world should Scott be
elected ; that Pierce, the other candidate, was a good Catholic,
and if elected, would build Catholic churches all over the world,
and that it therefore behooved them, as good Catholics, to see
that Agua Mansa cast its vote for Pierce. And Agua Mansa
did, under the pious instructions of the saintly Juan, subject to
the satanic Doctor, vote early and all day for the Democratic
candidate, to the great chagrin of old Louis lloubideaux, who
felt for the first time that he had lost his influence with the
gentle people of Agua Mansa.

Los Angeles — with all its repute as a place of strife and tur-
moil, the abode of chivalry, the hot-bed of red-handed ruffian-
ism, a place where every man carried his code strapped to his

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 75

posterior, where street "brawls were the order of the day, where
all difficulties were settled on the spot, then and there, with
bowie knife or revolver — was not, strange to say, save in one
instance, .to witness a conflict face to face, man to man, accord-
ing to the code of honor. Only one duel was ever fought in Los
Angeles. Only one duel was ever fought in Illinois, and prob-
ably for the same reasons. The terrible results of the two duels,
the one fought in the Sucker State and the one fought in this
angelic burgh, were so horrible in their endings as to deter all
future cluelistic aspirants from a conflict on the ensanguined
field of honor. The only duel ever fought in Illinois was in
effect as follows :

The two principals met, and one was killed. The survivor
was tried, convicted and hung for murder. The respective
seconds were convicted and sentenced to hard labor in the State
penitentiary, and, although the Governor was petitioned to
pardon or reprieve both the principals and seconds, he proved
obdurate, and the seconds served their time out in the peniten-
tiary, and in penal servitude expiated their offence, as did the
surviving principal expiate his on the gallows. Thereafter
dueling in Illinois became unfashionable, and aspirants for such
honors gave that State a wide berth.

The subject of this sketch was one of the participants in this
most horrible duel, which I am now going to relate. It occurred
in 1852, the valiant Doctor being the challenging party, and
John Bankhead Magruder, then Colonel of the Third ^Artillery,
commanding at San Diego, the party challenged. The horrible
affair occurred in this wise :

Magruder paid Los Angeles a visit, and the prominent citi-
zens hereof gave the distinguished visitor a public dinner. The
Doctor was a most prominent citizen. Magruder loved wine ;
Magruder also loved women, so it was said. No women, how-
ever, were present at the dinner, but wine flowed as wine had
never flowed before. The company became exhilarated, conver-

76 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

sation became general, and finally the question of great men
came up and was generally discussed. Wheeler said that
Henry Clay was the greatest of American statesmen. G. Thomp-
son Burrill said that Daniel Webster was the greatest man the
world ever produced. M&gruder said " Old .Hickory Jackson
was the greatest man who ever trod shoe-leather." The Doctor
said : " My father, who was Sheriff of Cayurja County, N. Y.,
was the greatest of all Americans." Magruder indignantly

looked up, and said that the Doctor " was a d d fool." A

challenge followed ; it was accepted, to be settled on the spot,
i.e., in the 10x20 dining-room of Harry Monroe's restaurant, on
Commercial street ; distance, from end to end of the table ;
weapons, derringer pistols. Wilson Jon^s, the Doctor's second,
got the word, and the principals, without shaking hands, took
their respective stations, the majestic form of Magruder tower-
ing above that of the. diminutive Doctor, who paled and shud-
dered when brought face to lace with the grim-visaged son of
Mars. All was suspense. The word was to be : Heady! fire!
One, two, three! At the word "ready," to the dismay of all,
the Doctor blazed away. When the smoke cleared away, to the
horror of the valiant disciple of Esculapius, his antagonist stood
as stiff and defiant as an avenging demon. The Doctor quailed ;
Magruder glared savagely on him for a full minute. The spec-
tators, spell-bound, looked on with horrible forebodings.
Magruder took two "side steps to the right," which brought
him clear of the end of the table. He then advanced the " right
foot full to the front," with his glaring eye-balls bent fiercely on
the now terrified Doctor. He then brought the left foot up to
the rear of the right heel, and leveled his derringer at the
ghastly face of the trembling Doctor. Then he advanced the
right foot as before, and in this way, with firm and unrelenting
tread, he slowly advanced on the now thoroughly frightened
Doctor, who made a movement toward the door. The specta-
tors interposed, and cut off the possibility of retreat in that

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 77

direction. The Doctor tried to flank the Colonel by skirmishing
around the table. Magruder faced to the left, as though moving
on a pivot, and kept the direful derringer aimed directly at the
Doctor's pallid countenance. In the excitement the Doctor ran
under the table, crawled through, grasped the knees of the
irate hero, and affectionately embracing them, said:

"Colonel Magruder, for the love of God, spare me for my
family."

The Colonel gave him a kick, and said :
"D — n you ! I'll spare you for the hangman."
And so ended this remarkable duel, which would have ended
in "murder most foul" only the derringers aforesaid where then
and there only loaded with poivder and bottle corks, a circum-
stance only known at the time to the respective seconds.

Magruder deservedly became one of the heavy guns of the
war between the States. The Doctor shuffled off this mortal
coil somewhere about 1868. Magruder has fired his last shot,
and most of the witnesses to that first and last duel in this city
of fair name and former evil repute have gone "to the last
bourne" — have handed in their mortal checks.

Several scions of chivalry have at various times tried to get
up affairs of honor in this city, but when reminded of the horri-
ble fate that befel " the most useful mau," their courage failed
and they could never be brought to the scratch.

"The most useful man" cast a halo of disgust over the
sacred code of honor, and ever since, in Los Angeles, dueling
has been regarded as odious and highly dangerous to one's
honor.

"The Doctor often acted as Deputy Sheriff," so says the
lamented historian. He was once elected Town Constable, so
this pious writer avers, and further alleges, that the renowned
subject of this sketch was a natural born bailiff. When armed
with an execution, he invariably found something to levy on,

78 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

aud woe be to the judgment debtor when the Doctor got after
him with the writ.

He could not draw blood out of a turnip, but he could get
money out of the most impecunious. He used to play all kinds
of " roots " in getting a turn on a man against whom he held
the righteous writ. He has been known to treat his victim
every day for a month, and cajole him in every conceivable
way, until he would thoughtlessly plank down an eight-square
slug, and the long fingers of the Doctor would go for it.

" I levy on that," he would say, and away would go the poor
devil's coin.

" The most useful man " has been known to hide under the
end of a counter a week, waiting for a victim to lay a piece of
gold on the counter, and then would come the, " I levy on that."
Oh, he was born to be a bailiff, was this "most useful man."

One more anecdote of "the most useful man," and I will
hand him over to some future historian who can do full justice
to his many and transcendant virtues. About December,
1852, there occurred a most wonderful lawsuit in Los Angeles,
in which the Doctor played a prominent part in his ministerial
capacity of Constable. The suit occupied our Justice's Court
for some two or 'three weeks ; no jury could agree ; trial after
trial with the same result. The case might be found on the
old docket of Thompson Burrill, and would probably read
thus :

"Juan Largo vs. Juan Chapo — Suit in Eeplevin.. Subject,
a lank old mustang."

Juan Largo was owner in fee simple of many thousands of
broad and fertile acres. Juan Largo was the owner of cattle
on a thousand hills ; he was also the happy possessor of
thousands of first-class mustangs. Juan Largo was rich,
powerful and happy. Juan Largo was a chief. Juan Chapo
was a poor, impecunious manipulator of monte cards, always
flat broke; always ready to "watch the game" for the more

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 79

fortunate of the fraternity; always asking for a "cow," and
sometimes borrowing a "stake" with which to play a small
game of " short cards ; " was a regular " bucker," but never
known to make a "tap." Juan Chapo was poor. Of this
world's goods he was devoid, save and except one poor, lean,
lank, barrel-headed, slab-sided, ewe-necked, sway-backed, flat-
footed, bob-tailed mustang, which he was wont to bestride,
and, with huge, jingling Mexican spurs, cavort around the
Plaza and up and down Main street, imagining himself to be
the envy of scowling Dons and the admired of all the sefioras
and senoritas in the city so famed for the beauty of its ladies.
That lank apology for a horse was the sum total of the worldly
wealth of poor Juan Chapo. Strange to say, that miserable
mustang was coveted by the lordly Juan Largo, who explained
by saying : " The value of the horse to me is as chaff, but there
are family traditions connected with that horse that makes him
dear to my heart. He has been stolen ; he bears my brand
and I am bound to have him." Hence the suit in replevin.
Strange, that the great chief in his wisdom failed to bethink
him that the impecunious Chapo would have been more than
willing to part with this relic of barbarism for the paltry
.consideration of about $12.50. However, the mighty Largo
had assumed his war paint, and his voice was for war. The
main difficulty in the suit was in determining the brand, the
particular brand belonging and appertaining to Juan Largo ;
for, be it known, that lank Mexican mustang was covered with
brands on his hind quarters and his fore quarters, brands on
the top of brands, and had evidently been in the possession of
all the Hidalgos from the time of the glorious Conquistador
down to the time of the humble J nan Chapo, whose brand had
not been burned into the frizzled and fried hide of the poor
brute, for the reason only that Juan Chapo was too poor
to own a brand, and had not bethought him to borrow one.
One jury failed to agree and was discharged ; another was

80 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

impaneled and sworn. This jury insisted on having the beast
shaved in order that the brand might be more easily discovered.
A requisition was accordingly made on the tonsorial skill
of Peter Biggs, who, in the presence of the Court, Jury and
congregated crowd of gamblers and hard cases, proceeded
to denude the horrid creature of every hair, from his jaw-bones
to the root of his tail, leaving him as sleek and smooth as the
hairless dog Dona Concha. The Jury viewed the shorn monster
and were more mystified than ever. There were too many
brands. Where dim outlines of Juan Largo's brand could be
traced, a half-dozen others would traverse it in all possible
directions. This Jury failed to agree. Another was drummed
up and mustered in, one of whom bethought him of a great
expert in brands, and if Juan Largo's brand had ever been
burned into the hide of that horrible horse, then Don Jose, the
expert, could explain and discern it. Don Jose, who dwelt
beyond the Santa Ana, was accordingly sent for. In the
meantime the jury gravely discussed the momentous question.
This was an "intelligent jury ; " so said the Court. It was a
mixed jury, so far as color and nationality went ; so says the
author. A very intelligent idea entered the twelve wise heads,
in form and effect as follows :

They procured the services of a draughtsman and some trans-
parent tracing paper, which was applied to the side of the
astonished bronco, and a traced copy of the manifold and many
brands was obtained, and spread'out on the table in front of the
Court and jury for Don Jose's inspection when he should arrive,
it being deemed advisable for him to first pass upon the brands
before seeing the horse. In due time the Don put in an
appearance, only too proud to be regarded as so great an expert.
The trace of the brands was spread out before_him, and he was
requested to explain.

He examined it in many ways ; he viewed it from a front
position ; took an oblique squint at it ; closed one eye and saw

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 81

it; he examined it first one side up and then the other side.
One irreverent juror was about to suggest that he had better
stand on his head and look at it. An outsider said he had bet-
ter put a wet blanket over his head and see it that way.

The Court finally addressed itself to. the great expert, and
said :

" Well, Don Jose, what do you make out of that ?"

" Quien sabe," *-vas the reply. " It greatly resembles the
map of Sonora."

This jury also failed to agree, but the 1 suit was not yet at an
end. Another jury was ordered. In the meantime it was
agreed between our esteemed old friend, Judge Myron Norton,
who was counsel for the impecunious Chapo, and the lordly Juan
Largo, that the controversy should be settled by " gage of bil-
liards," and that the game should be played by the Judge and
Largo himself. The author has no hesitation in saying that
that game of billiards, played in the " El Dorado " of revered
memory, was witnessed with greater interest than was ever
before given to a game of equal importance. The game was
long, well played, and every shot delivered with all the cool cal-
culation demanded by the great stake played for. Every avail-
able space not required by the contestants was occupied by the
eager and excited spectators ; the house was crowded to suffo-
cation ; anxious faces peered in at the windows ; sharp eyes
peeped through every crink and cranny of the frail house. The
tall looked over the shoulders of the low in stature, and for
three days the game went on. Hughes' bottles were filled, re-
filled, and again emptied ; demijons were squeezed, and
Hughes sent out for a further f supply, when all at once an
immense cheer went up that shook the plaza like an earthquake.
Myron Norton had won the game. The mustang was poor
Juan Chapo's.

Norton was triumphantly raised on the shoulders of his

friends ; Juan Largo was carried out on a raw-hide. Cheer upon.
6

82 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

cheer went up for Norton, and Juan Chapo aud the angels
went on a general bust for the night. Imagine, then, the con-
sternation of the enraged multitude when it was announced on
the following day that the recreant Largo refused to abide by
the result of the game of billiards, and still laid claim to the
poor horse, and still pressed his suit before Judge Thompson
Burrill. Judge Norton vituperated ; poor Chapo swore in
both English and Spanish ; and the hard cases spoke in terms
by no means complimentary to the lordly Juan Largo.

A new jury had been impaneled and sworn, and the gay and
chivalrous Norton, and the now grim-visaged little Juan Chapo,
posted on his left and rear, again came to the legal scratch.
For two more wearisome days the contest waxed warm for the
possession of the poor tormented mustang. The case went to
the jury who were out all night (on a bust), and on the opening
of Court in the morning came in with a verdict for the now
exultant Juan Largo. Juan Chapo consoled himself by saying:
" Well, I've lost my horse, but old Largo has to pay the costs."
which was really the case, being a suit in replevin, surety for
the costs had been duly filed, and oh ! horror of horrors ! that
bill of costs ! They knew then how to tax the costs, not quite
so well as now, but still they knew how to pile them up in
those early days of litigation, and the Doctor knew how to col-
lect them. He and Thompson had caught a fat goose and they
knew how to pluck him, and pluck him they did without
mercy. The lordly Juan Largo had won a costly victory. The
costs amounted to more than $3,000.

During the long and wearisome trial before the last jury, the
punctilious Court, now grown impatient, fined a delinquent
juror $20 for contempt. Change was so scarce at the time,
that it was quite impossible to change a $50 piece, so the juror
defiantly flung a slug on the table and said, " change that if
you can, and take your fine," feeling confident the Court would
be unable to break the coin.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 83

" I levy on that" said the Doctor, pouncing upon the slug,
to the surprise and consternation of the discomfited and
now thoroughly subdued arbiter of justice.

Oh | he was the very prince of bailiffs, was that ''most useful
man."

To the mind of an American patriot the two most important
events in California pioneer history was the raising of the first
American flag at Monterey and the admission of the State in
the social circle of the Union, and the reception of the news of
that important act of September 9th, 1850. Next in import-
ance, politically, was the first vote cast in California for Presi-
dent of the United States, as aforesaid ; and the transmission
of the electoral vote to Washington will, in this chapter of
truthful history, be the subject of a reminiscent sketch of a
pioneer of ponderous political proportions. But, first, I must
tell something about the first flag and the first flagstaff at Mon-
terey. The world gives Fremont the credit of planting that
historical pole and nailing thereto the flag of our country. The'
world in this instance is mistaken. That eminent but modest
soldier and patriot, General George Stoneman, is the man in
question.

There must have been an immense number of people engaged
in raising that original Monterey flag, as, within the last fifteen
years I've known at least five hundred persons who claimed the
honor individually and non-collectively, the last of whom is
Captain Lewis G. Green, the colored janitor of the Los Angeles
Court House. Strange it is, but true, I have never known a
man to claim the honor of firing cannon at San Francisco and
Sacramento or any other place on the reception of the admis-
sion news, though a great amount of gunpowder was burnt
in honor of that event. The joyful announcement reached
Sacramento during the night. About the middle of October,
1850. before daylight, a cannon was, I believe, brought in from
Sutter's Fort, ran into position at the foot of J street, and

84 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

commencing at the exact minute of sunrise fired a national
salute. Having just come down from the Deer Creek gold
washings, our party was encamped under the historical live oak
on the levee opposite the gun, (bad luck to the man who cut it
down). Those cannoneers must have all died or disappeared,
otherwise we would hear of or from them.

General Cobarrubias was the eminent character who bore the
California electoral vote of 1852 to our country's capital to be
cast for Franklin Pierce as President of the United States.

It was a very pretty and delicate compliment in appointing
a native of California and a Mexican to cast our first electoral
vote. There was chivalry in the act ; and why not ! Was
not California then the double-distilled quintescence of chivalry?
General Cobarrubias was an out-and-out representative of the
chivalry of the times. Elegant in his manners and appearance;
speaking English and French as well as his native Spanish, a
thorough politician withal, he became a power in the land, and
among the politicians of early days he was of great importance.

The General was convivial in the fullest sense of the word.
Yes, he was bibulous. He could drink an English lord under
the table at any time, place, or under any circumstances what-
ever. Many is the "bout" he had with Ned McGowan,
John McDougall, Elkin Heydenfeldt, Ipsydoodle Ferguson and
their friends, the most eminent drinkers of the day, all of whom
fell before his remarkable powers of absorption, unless, per-
chance, the ubiquitous McGowan.

Soon after his return from his mission to the Electoral Col-
lege he paid Los Angeles a visit of honor (Gen. Cobarrubias
resided at Santa Barbara), and was taken in charge by the
leading Democrats of the city, and given a public dinner at the
Cafe Barriere. Among the guests present were those renowned
bon vivants, Myron Norton, Ezra Drown, Charles Edward Carr,
Ogier and Brent, who, being aware of the General's wonderful

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 85

powers of endurance, resolved to mix his wine with brandy, and
place him hors du combat.

The festive board was spread and the guests were seated at
8 o'clock sharp, and the bibulous battle began in good earnest.
At midnight many who were active at the opening of the festive
artillery began to retire. Norton was top heavy ; Drown was
half-seas-over ; Carr was waterlogged, and Ogier was in search
of soundings whereon to cast his anchor. The General was as
cool and level-headed as was Farragut while running the forts
of the Mississippi. At 3 o'clock Madame Barriere and her corps
of waiters retired from the field, leaving the level-headed Cobar-
rubias engaged in drawing the cork from a fresh bottle, and
smilingly contemplating the maudlin antics of his befuddled
entertainers. Daylight came, and the Madame heard the bell
ringing in the dining-room, and repairing thither, what a sight
met her astonished gaze. General Cobarrubias was sitting in
his place at the head of the table, smoking his cigar and reading
a newspaper, and the flower of American chivalry were laying
around promiscuously, and under the table. " Madame," said
the hero, gracefully waving his hand toward his fallen com-
rades (?), "what queer people these Americans are. They fight
valiantly, but always fall early in the action. They have no
bottom. You may bring me a bottle of cognac, after drinking
which I can stand three soft-boiled eggs and a cup of coffee."

A great man was General Cobarrubias. The pomp and cir-
cumstance of the Democratic politicians of San Francisco
escorted the General to the steamer, saw him safely quartered
in the finest state-room on board, where a deluge of wine was
turned on, and continued to flow until the steamer was brought
to and overhauled off Meigg's Wharf, where the escort left the
steamer, which majestically and like a thing of life swept past
the Golden Gate, bearing Caasar and his fortunes.

The General had the seat of honor at the ship's table, and
wined every man and woman at the table who would be wined,

86 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

and my memory faileth me in my attempt to remember a
single soul in '52 who would refuse to be wined.

The General dispensed a bibulous hospitality in his state-
room, gave private wine suppers in the ship's cabin at late
hours. The consequence was that when the steamer reached
Panama the ship's storekeeper presented the General with a
bill of $3,000 for wine on the fortnight's voyage. Oh J genius,
where dost thou dwell, and where is the place of thy nativity ?
Paris ? Berlin ? London ? or the other capitals of the old
world ? New York ? Boston ? or Washington, with thy
superlative dead-head, Beau Hickman ? Yes ! all of you have
given birth to men of genius who have electrified the world, all
of whom have been pigmies as compared with this magnificent
Barbarefio, whose genius cropped out and made itself as mani-
fest as a native quartz ledge, for, when this Brobdignagian
liquor bill was spread out before the General he only cast his
eye upon the following figures, to-wit, $3,000, when coolly and
without a word he drew his check for the amount on the
National Democratic Committee, pocketed the bill, said "Esta
bueno," invited the storekeeper and purser to his stateroom to
finish up a tew bottles, then, entering a boat, the General
landed at Darien to pass over the same road marked out by his
illustrious countryman, Nimez de Balboa. On the Atlantic
side the same game was played with about the same result.
When the steamer came to off Sandy Hook the news went
flying to New York that Gen. Cobarrubias, a Mexican
Grandee of unlimited wealth, was on board, bearing the
electoral vote of California. The result was when the steamer
drew alongside her wharf, all Tammany was on hand to receive,
do honor to, and escort the Greneral to quarters prepared for
him at the Astor House. The New York Democracy had a
lion for a guest, and they showed him around. His reception
was equal to those given to Gen. Grant on his voyage around
the world.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 8T

What ! A former Mexican General, a California Grandee !
New York went wild over him, and Tammany appointed a
committee to escort him to the capital, and he was not permit-
ted to spend a dollar while in the land of Knickerbocker or on
his way to and from the capital. Discharging his duties at the
Electoral College, by presenting the vote of California in a
grandiloquent speech, in which he pledged his State to the
Democracy for all time, and after lionizing in Washington,
the Californian returned with his Tammany escort to Man-
hattan, and, being wined, dined and lionized a second time,
was duly shipped off to his native State.

Drawing his check on "the Committee" at the Isthmus
for his wine bill, which for the last time he repeated at San
Francisco. His wine checks were duly honored by the National
Committee, to the tune of about $10,000. And why not ?
Notwithstanding the General's acres were very wide, and his
purse it was quite narrow, still he was a General, a California
Grandee, and the National Democracy felt honored in having
such an eminent person cast the virgin vote of the young State.

The great man is long since dead. The mantle of magnifi-
cence which enveloped the graceful form of the father has
descended in diminished grandeur, and rests on the shoulders of
a worthy son (a small chip of the old block), and the name of
Cobarrubias is still of weighty consequence in this consequen-
tially great country.

88 REMINISCENCES OF A KANGEIl

CHAPTER V.

Spanish Families— Good Society — A First-class Mexicau Ball— Ranchero
Hospitality— Captain J. Q. A. Stanley, li. S. Den, Bandini and Others-
Washington's, Birthday Ball in 1853— Assault and Hard Fighting— The
Dead — Myron Norton Wounded — The Angels on a War Footing —
Andres Pico Commands the Peace — The Mission Indians Adopt Gringo
Customs and Hang a Man — Mission Squirrels Versus Mission Bells.

the writer carne to Los Angeles, notwith-
standing the disjointed state of. affairs, society was
really good ; better, the writer ventures the asser-
tion, than at present, or than may reasonably be expected
within the next decade. Prior to and at that time the old
wealthy and intelligent Spanish families had formed a strictly
exclusive class. They went to make up the aristocracy of this
country, and dispensed a lil>eral hospitality that did honor to
them as a people, as well as to the more* favored class of
Americans who were so fortunate as to gain admission to their
circles. Many of them, especially the well-fixed rancheros,
dispensed a baronial hospitality, and they could well afford it.

Soon after my arrival in Los Angeles it was my good fortune
to attend a first-class ball at the house of Don Jose Antonio
Carrillo ; a first-class citizen, one who had been honored with a
seat in the Sovereign Congress of Mexico. He had also been
the military head of the country, and was at the head of native
California ton.

The ball was the first of the season, and was attended by
the elite of the country from San Diego to Monterey. The
dancing hall was large, with a floor as polished as a bowling

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 89

saloon. The music was excellent — one splendid performer on
an immense harp.

The assembled company was not only elegant — it was sur-
passingly brilliant, The dresses of both ladies and gentlemen
could not be surpassed in expensive elegance. The fashions of
the gringo world had made little innovation on the gorgeous
and expensive attire of the country as to the gentlemen, while
the ladies were resplendent in all the expense of fashion that
could be supplied by unlimited resources. The writer had read
Major Emery's book on California, in which, after lauding the
California horsemen above the Comanche Indian and the
Bedouin Arab, he went on to say that "the ladies excelled in
dancing more than did the men in horsemanship."

Being thus prepared, the writer expected to witness reason-
ably elegant Terpsichorean performances, but the dancing on
that occasion was something more than elegant, it was wonder-
ful, while the most dignified and staid decorum was observed
to the end of the festivities, which broke up about two o'clock
in the morning. It was at this ball that I first met rny old
Ranger comrade, Captain J. Q. A. Stanley. Among other dis-
tinguished characters at the ball were the celebrated Juan Ban-
dini, a learned man of the country, Doctor Don Ilicardo Den
of generous and chivalrous memory, who being a subject of
Great Britain during the war with Mexico, gave his services
gratuitously to both sides in the war, and deservedly won the
love and gratitude of all, and Don Tomas Sanchez, a true son
of chivalry, who had wielded a good lance at San Pascual.

Some two and-a-half months thereafter we had one of those
very elegant and exclusive affairs that ended in blood, its very
exclusiveness being the cause of its very sanguinary termina-
tion. The ball was given at the house of Don Abel Stearns, a
very wealthy American, on Washington's birthday, February
22, 1853, and was a grand and patriotic affair, but very exclu-
sive. Somehow or other two or three gamblers were invited

90 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

guests at the ball, which gave grave offence to the fraternity in
general, among whom were many first class Americans, good
and patriotic fellows, who loved their country and venerated the
name of the* immortal hero in honor of whose memory the grand
affair was gotten up. These gentlemen maintained that on
national occasions one American was as good as another, and
that the whole community were on an equal footing, and that
to attempt an exclusive national celebration was tomfoolery of
the first order. So about two hundred of them assembled to
"bust up" and disperse the exclusive humbug. The first
move was to get the old cannon, which had grown rusty for lack
of revolutions, and place it in position directly in front of the
house and bearing on one of the doors. They then procured a
large beam, to be used as a battering ram when the time arrived
for the general assault — all of which was done with the utmost
silence.

At about midnight, when the patriotic dancing was at fever
heat, and everything was hilarious within, the old gun was let
off, and the battering-ram was driven with terrific force against
the other door. Fortunately the cannon was badly trained,
and the charge missed the door. The battering-ram, however,
did its work well, and the door burst in with a tremendous
crash. It fortunately happened that one game little fellow,
who was one of the exclusives, was dancing directly in front of
the burst-in door, and had a battery of Colts buckled to him,
either of which was nearly as large as himself.

This patriotic exclusive stepped directly to the door and
plugged the first gentleman who attempted to enter. Then
another, and another, and by this time the affair had assumed
all the beautiful proportions of a first-class revolution, and the
firing became general. Of the assailants several were shot
down, and the assault effectually repulsed ; while of the exclu-
sives but one man was wounded, and he the gay and festive
Myron Norton, the chivalric vanquisher of the great Largo in

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 91

that memorable game of billiards heretofore referred to. The
brilliant Norton received a gentle perforation, that placed him
liors du combat for some time thereafter.

For the next few days the Angels were on a war footing ;
the community was divided ; the defeated gamblers swore ven-
geance ; the well-heeled exclusives were on the alert, deter-
mined not to be taken unawares ; a general conflict seemed
imminent ; on retiring at night doors were barricaded and arms
carefully examined ; a silent, moody gloom prevailed ; the
gamblers would meet in groups and menacingly discuss the
situation ; the business part of the community was greatly
alarmed. Confidence was only restored when Don Andres Pico
came out and gave the gamblers to emphatically understand
that, on the first hostile demonstration, he would raise the
native Californians en masse against them, and that he would
not be responsible for the consequences. It nevertheless took
months to cool off the bad blood engendered by that affair of
the 22nd of February, 1853, and for some time individual col-
lisions were of frequent occurrence.

I had now been several months in the city of the Angels, and
had not as yet visited the Mission of San Gabriel. So one
Monday morning I mounted a fiery mustang, and hied me over
the beautiful green prairie sward to that interesting and classic
spot.

The reader who now journeys over the nine miles of inter-
vening hill and dale between Los Angeles and San Gabriel, has
to draw very forcibly on his imagination to take in the land-
scape as it then was. At the time referred to the writer saw
at least 10,000 head of horses pasturing on the rich and
verdant plain, their number seeming without limit, while here
and there could be seen the picturesque figure of the Lasador
in the same unique costume worn five hundred years ago in the
Vega of Grenada, or on the plains of Morocco. The landscape
was romantic and lively in those early times, us now it is

92 .REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

gloomy and monotonous. The lazy sheep-herder, with his
dusty flock, has driven out the snorting mustang and his
dashing rider.

I necessarily felt a great exhilaration of spirits on arriving at
the Mission. The beautiful morning, the bracing air, the
grand mountain scenery in front of me. The enlivening scene
constantly present, the splendid gait of my well-broken charger
(the word mustang would be an insult to the noble horse
ridden on that occasion), all tended to inspire a buoyancy of
feeling that prepared the writer to enjoy whatever of the
pleasant might present itself at the Mission. I rode up to
" Headquarters " and was met by a very handsome black
bearded young man by name Roy Bean, brother and successor
of General Josh Bean. The General had been the proprietor
of the " Headquarters," the first grog-shop of the place. Roy
was dressed in elegant Mexican costume, with a .pair of revolvers
in his belt, while a bowie knife was neatly sheathed in one of
his red-topped boots. 1 inquired if I could get barley for my
horse. "Yes," said he, "as soon as Vicente comes in."

"When will Vicente come in?" I inquired.

" When they get through hanging that fellow," said he.

" What fellow?" said I.

"Oh !" said he. "the Injuns have began to learn the white

man's tricks. By ! " said he with a laugh, " look ! Isn't

that rich?"

While thus conversing my attention was drawn up the road
some 200 yards to the west, to a large . crowd of Mexicans and
Indians, men, women and children, on foot and on horseback,
and when Roy laughed and said "Isn't that rich?" I saw a
man go directly upward to the limb of a tree and there remain
until an hour later, when, with a feeling in strange contrast
with the exhilaration felt on approaching the pleasant looking
place, I took my departure without getting the feed of barley
for my gallant little charger. After crossing the arroyo, and

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 93

being about a half mile away, I halted, turned my horse's
head, and there still hung the poor victim dangling in the air.
At the same time there went up a wail of despair, as though
from the friends and relatives of the murdered Indian. When
Roy said " Isn't that rich ? " he concluded with : " Watch my
front door and see that no d — d thief steals my whisky," and
without another word hastily mounted his horse and dashed off
to the place of execution, evidently intent on more readily
drinking in the rapture of the occasion. During the hour
I spent at that happy place, I learned the reason of the hang-
ing of the poor Indian.

At the time there were three great grog-shops at the
Mission ; all kept by Americans ; all doing a smashing busi-
ness, especially on Sundays, when from early dawn till late at
night these devil's workshops would be surrounded by a mass of
drunken, howling Indians. About sundown the smashing
business would begin in good earnest ; that is to say, these
gentle aboriginal Christians would commence to smash in each
other's skulls. Now you see the kind of a " smashing " busi-
ness carried on by our three honorable contrymen in addition
to getting the Indian's coin.

The "Headquarters," the most aristocratic of the three
grog-shops, was situated at the southwest corner of the then
great Mission building ; the sign was painted in large black
letters on the clean whitewashed front of the building. The
place was certainly the "Headquarters" of all the lazzaroni
of the country. Judging from the crowd of vagabonds who
put in an immediate appearance after the summary disposition
of the Indian, Roy's head was quite level when he said " the
d — d thieves will steal my whisky."

Why the place was called "Headquarters" I/ailed to learn,
but most probably the reason was as before stated, or perhaps
because it was such a famous place for splitting and quartering
heads, a pastime that the elevated Indian, whose obituary I

94 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

must now attend to, had been engaged in ; that is to say, he
quartered the head of a fellow aboriginee at the " Headquar-
ters " on the previous night, was placed in durance, and forth-
with, on the following morning, carried before His Honor Judge
Dennison, a " duly elected and qualified Justice of the Peace/'
and Associate Judge of the Court of Sessions of the county.
The Judge held his Court at the grog-shop of Frank Carroll,
who hung out in the beautiful cottage residence of one of the
Mission Fathers, situated in the Old Mission orange grove.
Frank, with that remarkable spirit of enterprise which charac-
terized many of our early settlers, had jumped the Fathers' cot-
tage, and there fixed his pioneer roof-tree and hung out his
sign, and dispensed the invigorating fluid to both man and
beast.

The Judge, who was more towering in his ambition, jumped
the orange grove, and became the original shipper of the golden
fruit to the San Francisco market. The Judge was engaged
in a quiet game of "old sledge" with one of Frank's custom-
ers, tor the morning nips, when the Indian was brought into
Court. He very gravely laid down his hand and inquired what
the matter was. When informed of the nature of the offence
he picked up his cards, sipped his cocktail, and remarked in
Spanish : "Well, you had better take him out and hang him,"
and then continued his game without further interruption ; and
the sentence of the Court was carried into immediate execution,
.as before shown.

The Mission is a classic spot, and well it may be. Classical
writers have written, and become enthusiastic in writing, about
the old crumbling adobe walls. One of the more inspired, in
referring to the old church and the churchyard, uses the follow-
ing language, drawing on Longfellow for help :

" Lingering around the charmed precincts of this venerable
pile (meaning the church), my footsteps led me unconsciously
to that portion of the grounds set apart as the City of the

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 95

Dead. Here, among these unmarked graves, might Evangeline
have come, if her long wanderings had led her to this, as they
did to the ' Mission of the Black Robes,' where her Gabriel
was to her so near and yet so far."

The writer assumes that Evangeline didn't come, and if her
Gabriel had been laid away in that old graveyard, then Gabriel
would have been in the extreme of bad luck, and the writer
feels confident that the reader will readily agree with him that
if Evangeline had been stationed at the " venerable pile " as a
military outlook for a month or two, as was the writer, and had
observed the- tolling of the Mission bells at each consecutive
funeral, and had observed the maneuvers of the interesting Mis-
sion squirrels that burrowed in the protecting artificial mounds
formed by the crumbling walls, the squirrels coming in greedy
haste at the doleful summons of the tolling Mission bells, Evan-
geline would have wished her Gabriel in a more secure and less
frequented place.

Now, as a matter of fact, the writer, in his early military
career in the summer of 1853, was stationed at the "venerable
pile" as a Hanger Scout, a sort of an individual corps of obser-
vation, and while one day sauntering around the City of the
Dead, making observations and taking notes in his mind, his
attention was arrested by the deep tolling of the Mission bells,
which gave notice of the commencement of the journey of some
departed spirit to the unknown bourne. The young military
observer halted, sat his carbine against the old crumbling wall
of the churchyard, and with grave demeanor awaited the coming
funeral.

"D-o-n-g, d-o-n-g, d-o-n-g," went the Mission bells.

" Chirp, chirp, chirp, rippity-skip," came a troupe of Mission
•squirrels. In a moment the wall was covered with them, all
sitting as erect as a Sergeant-Major at guard-mount — their
little thumbs on the ends of their little noses, while their little
fingers would seem to girate in a derisive and playful manner

96 REMINISCENCES OB' A BANGER.

at the venerable old coffee-colored sexton, who thoughtfully
leaned on his ancient spade beside the new-made grave.

This grave historian was lost in thought. " T-o-1-1 ; t-o-1-1:
t-o-1-1," went the Mission bells. " Chatter, chatter, chatter,"
sang the happy and expectant Mission squirrels.

The funeral procession arrived, each mourner in line, armed
with a burning tallow candle. The solemn services of the
church were soon at an end. The sepulchral sound of the earth
being thrown into the grave, the " t-o-1-1, t-o-1-1, t-o-1-1," of
the Mission bells, the mournful wail of the near relatives of the
departed soul, the happy "chirp, chirp, chatter, chatter, chat-
ter." of the triumphant Mission squirrels, and the sorrowful
procession filed away from the grave and departed.

When the Mission bells ceased their tolling, the happy
Mission squirrels galloped around the old wall, frisking and
chattering apparently to each other with a seeming human
intelligence.

The Mission squirrel smiles as he listeus,

To the sound that grows apace;
Well lie knows of the funeral coining,

By the toll of the bells in the holy place.

When all was silent as a grave-yard, except the chattering
squirrels, the young Ranger entered, and. approaching the
sombre old sexton, respectfully inquired if the squirrels always
came to the funerals.

" Si, seuor, siempre " (yes, sir, always), said he.

" How is it ? " said the Ranger. " Why do they come ? "

" Quien sabe," said the old grave-digger, " estos animalitos
son muy inteligentes." (These little fellows are very intelli-
gent.)

•' Do they come at vesper ringing ? " inquired the Ranger.

" Nunca," said the grave-digger, " y porque ? " (Never, and
why should they ?)

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 97

" Do they come when the happy ringing calls the pious to
mass ? " asked the Hanger.

" Never," said the Sexton. " Did I not tell you they were
intelligent animals?"

"And they only come to funerals then," once more ventured
the Ranger.

"They only come to the funerals," said the serious Sexton as
he shouldered his shovel, and with grave and measured tread
left the graveyard.

This most truthful historian solemnly asseverates that such
was really the case ; that those Mission bells might ring all
day, as they frequently did on joyous occasions, without dis-
turbing the equanimity of a single squirrel: But just let the
bell give one " t-o-1-1," and the scene that has been depicted
would invariably be repeated.

Surely the old Sexton spoke the truth when he said, " these
little fellows are very intelligent." Their intelligence seemed
almost cannibal.

Now, does the reader for one moment suppose that if
"Evangeline" had come and witnessed such a funeral as the
one seen by the Ranger, she might, in the solemn hush of even-
tide, have

" Sat by some nameless grave,

And thought that perhaps in its bosom
He was already at rest,

A.nd longed to slumber beside him."

Evangeline would not by any manner of means have been so
stupid. She would have been frightened away by the squirrels.

Poets have exhausted their fire about the Mission bells, but
it has been left to this humble military scribe to attempt to do
justice to the remarkable intelligence of those Mission squirrels.

The writer, in pursuing the direct road of veracity, will not
scruple in tearing off masks and fancy dresses, when presented

in disguise, for the benefit of posterity, arid will venture only so

7

98 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

far as he can have the assistance of the bull's-eye of truth, and
will in his truthful narration always neglect the will-o'-the-wisp
of mere romance.

The classical writer of " Semi-Tropical California," who
made us all rich with the flourish of his pen, goes on in raptur-
ous musings in laudation of the " venerable pile," and says :
" But it is time these musings had an end. It is vesper hour.
Long, long years ago, grandees and high-born dames, men and
women in middle rank in life, and peasants, some bowed with
age, and children of tender years, stood round a seething fur-
nace in Old Spain. Ornaments of gold and silver were flung
into the fiery mass. Anon a chime of bells came from the
master's hand. With prayer and chant and benediction, they
were given to the keeping of a galleon, bound for this far-off
land. Propitious winds bore them in safety to the old embar-
cadero of the Mission of San Gabriel. For many and many a
year the bells have flung their silvery music on the evening
air."

How very romantic all this would be, were it not masked 'in
the thinnest gauze.

The writer visited Panama in 1856, and the first thing shown
him by an enthusiastic Panameno was one of Harper's Month-
lies, which gave the same account of the origin of the " bells
of Panama," and the same story is repeated as to every bell in
Spanish America, especially if written about by adventurous
American newspaper romancers. If not romance, but fact,
then the "grandees," "dames," and "men and women in mid-
dle rank of life," and "peasants," must have had immense
superfluity of gold and silver ornaments. I do remember, how-
ever, that in 1855 there was a great earthquake, that shook the
Mission bells so hard that their ancient rawhide fastenings gave
way, and some of the bells came down with a crash.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 99

CHAPTER VI.

A Grand Character — An Old-tiine Election in Los Angeles — Capturing
Voters, the Modus Operand! — Disguising Sovereigns— Old Payuche —
History Repeats Itself — The Registrar of the Land Office Dines Off the
Nose of the U. 8. District Attorney — The Judge and the Pet Deer —
Lafayette Cotton and the Register — An Overdose of Buckshot.

reader is now brought to May, 1853, and all of
the important transactions occurring from the time
the writer arrived up to that date have been gen-
erally referred to, with all important digressions. It was the
intention of this very impartial chronicler to mention several
great local historical characters before touching on any other
great events. One character, whose acquaintance the writer
made about a month after his. arrival, has been intentionally
postponed from time to time, for the reason that so far he
felt his utter inability to do justice to the greatest and most
sublime character, possibly, the world has ever known — cer-
tainly the grandest genius the author has ever had the honor
of knowing, and he has known and stood in the presence
of many eminent characters, even royalty; that is to say,
this humble subscriber has stood in the presence of, sat in the
palace with, and drank unadulterated rum out of the same
calabash with His Royal Majesty George Frederick Clarence,
the great ruler of the Mosquito Kingdom, and the favorite
protege of the Imperial Victoria. The reader can now readily
perceive that the author has been a person of great conse-
quence, and will wonder that any Republican American could
have survived so much honor.

100 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

The writer reiterates that he has associated on terms of
easy familiarity with many great and illustrious persons,
extending all the way from the Mosquito King to Round-
House George, 'but never felt his utter insignificance as an
individual until brought into the presence of the great Angel
of this angelic town, a man greatest among the great, one
who carved his name on the history of every country he
ever honored with his presence, extending all the way from
the white cliffs of Albion to the piratical Soo Loo Archie-
pelpgo.

Now does the reader wonder that this timid writer has so
long hesitated, and still hesitates to even attempt to give to
the world the history of one so illustrious. Such a person
actually dwells among us mundane angels, and the author will
devote one whole future chapter in giving to posterity a true
biography of this world-renowned angel, and will now proceed
to inform the reader of the way, form and style of an ancient
and original municipal election in the city of angels.

Los Angeles polled a very great vote in the happy times of
pioneer elections. \Vith her population of 5,000, a greater
number of votes were deposited in the ballot-boxes than at
present, with our four times greater number of noses, and it
will now be the duty of the writer to attempt to explain the
modus operandi of getting four or five votes out of each sov-
ereign voter.

May Day election arrived. The sun of Austerlitz rose in all
the splendor only known to this sunny clime. Before he cast
his first glittering rays on "Gallows Hill," so styled at the time by
some profane people, the whole population seemed thoroughly
aroused to the importance of the great event. Anxious look-
ing individuals could he seen with pockets full of tickets, hurry-
ing towards the plaza, the nigger-alley corner of which was the
polling place. By 8 o'clock A. M. several old army ambulances,
ablaze with banners bearing the name of some candidate, com-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 101

menced driving up and down the principal streets at a furious
pace, while one immense wagon with a full band of Mexican
circus performers, drove up and down the streets with a regular
force of skirmishers and flankers thrown out, capturing and
bringing in to the great wagon American citizens to be used as
stepping stones to the fortune of some aspiring local politician.
When the wagon was filled to its utmost capacity the music
would cease, and the great vehicle would be driven in all haste
to the polls, and the captured sovereigns would be taken out
and marched up to the ballot-box, and after an immense amount
of skirmishing and squabbling, for be it known they were not
quietly permitted to vote, as the friends and strikers of opposing
candidates made every possible effort to change the ticket on
the voters as they stood in line waiting their turn. The duties
of American citizenship were finally discharged, and one might
suppose the victims were quietly permitted to depart. Not so,
however, they were immediately taken in charge by another
detachment of the candidates who had first made the capture
and duly marched off, for what purpose, of where, only the
initiated at that time could know. In a brief space of time, how-
ever, the same crowd would return to the polls, and for the
second time duly discharge the duties of freemen, and will
the writer's veracity be questioned when he asseverates that
this herd of captured voters would be voted at least five times
during the day, and every one of them would in all probability
be Mexican, and frequently aboriginal Indians, and in no wise
entitled to vote.

The modus was in this wise : After voting the first time,
which would be under gentle pressure, they would be taken to
an improvised barber-shop, and their long hair cropped and
being otherwise disguised, and then returned to the polls and
voted under an assumed name ; they would then return to the
shaving place and go through another operation, and a possible
whitewashing, another name would be given the citizen, also

r

102 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

another drink and another dollar, and another vote would be
polled for some enterprising candidate. Voting in early times
used to be a lucrative business, and voters were considered valu-
able according to the facility offered for disguising one's self.
Old Payuclie, who at this day honors our chain-gang with his
valuable services, used to be (as I am informed by an old poli-
tician, who is yet in the harness) disguised and voted five times
at each successive election. Times have materially changed ;
at the present time the voters shave the candidates, in place of
being shaved, as in the happy times long gone by.

Peter Biggs was in his glory on that election day. His shop
and its various branches were crowded all day.

It was astonishing the amount of silver in circulation on that
day. Mexican dollars were as abundant as $50 slugs, and
more so, a dollar being the price of a vote. The reader will at
once inquire, as did the innocent chronicler at the time, why so
nyich strife, so much manoeuvring, such an expenditure of cash,
when the annual salary of the Mayor, who was at the head of
the ticket, was only $500. The Councilmen drew no pay, the
Marshal's perquisites were small ; the Assessor also got $500.
The explanation is that this angelic city had a grand domain
to be disposed of, the foundation of future jobs, and land opera-
tions were to be planned and fixed up with a view to future
profit, and that was why such stupendous efforts were made to
carry the election in May, 1853. It is not necessary to inform
the reader what gentlemen were honored with the people's
preference on that memorable day, only, as before stated, the
gay and festive hangman was elected Marshal, and the people
raised Old Nick on that occasion. They set a bad precedent,
that has been improved and refined, until at this day we have
the most skilfully managed elections that could be imagined
outside the infernal regions.

That "history repeats itself" is an undisputed truism.
That "virtue hath its own reward" is a maxim even older

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 103

than " Poor Richard's Almanac." That " punishment is sure
to follow the wrong doer," we have all had ample experience.
Then, to be brief and to the point, let me inform the reader
that the same horrible punishment inflicted on the unfortunate
Marshal by the infuriated Attorney, heretofore referred to
as having occurred at Madame Barriere's, at the time the
bar went on a bust, was inflicted on the great Federal legal
light, by the enlightened and highly civilized gentleman who
did such wonderful honor to the best government in the
sinecure position of Registrar of the United States Land Office.
Sinecure, I say, because the officers were appointed before
the land was even surveyed. That is to say, the two dig-
nitaries were quietly supping together in one of the tack rooms
of the " Montgomery," when the pioneer legal representative of
the Government emptied a plate of soup full in the face of the
Land Office man, who, not in the least disturbed in his
cool equanimity, quietly proctteded to lay the attorney across
the table and deliberately bite off about an inch of that
great Federal nose. Unfortunately for the dignity of the
Government, the amateur surgeon who stitched on that nose
made a nice graft of it, only he put it on upside down,
which made it seem as though the Government man was
always turning up his nose at more humble persons, while the
fact was that the attorney was one of the most democratic
of mankind, and would drink often and always with whom-
soever invited him, though of high or of low degree.

One more memorable incident in the official career of the
Attorney and he will be consigned to the affectionate memory
of the few who honored him as a very good fellow, as well as a
first-class pensioner on a first-class and benevolent Government.

The Judge who had been raised to the Federal Bench, and
Gitchell, who had succeeded him as U. S. District Attorney,
started one morning on a buggy ride, and the Judge bethought
himself that it would be a pious idea to go by the old brewery

104 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

and take a few drinks of gratuitous beer. So Gitchell held the
horse while the Judge went in the back way to the beer bar-
rels. All at once Gitchell heard a terrible roar from the Judge,
then, "Oh, Lord, Gitchell ! Gitchell, come quick! Oh!, Git-
chell, d — n it, corne; hurry, quick!"

Gitchell's horse was somewhat restive, and Gitchell made
haste slowly, notwithstanding the Judge's "Gitchell ! Gitchell!
quick! Hell and fury, Gitchell, come quick ! Come faster,
faster," and even more emphatic exhortations.

Gitchell was a long time in reaching the Judge. Imagine,
therefore, his surprise on entering the back yard of the brewery
to find the Judge engaged in mortal combat, gasping for breath,
with his head down, his lacerated posterior well elevated,
thoroughly braced, with his brawny arms thrust forward and
every nerve strained in an almost vain endeavor to hold at bay
a furious antlered buck. As soon as he became aware that
Gitchell had arrived, he roared out "Kill this d — d thing! "

" Oh, no ! " said Gitchell ; " it's a pet Confound it, Judge,
let the deer go; what in the name of all that's ridiculous are
you doing? Let it go ! "

" Blazes ! " said the Judge, " I did let it go once, and it tore
me all to pieces."

Gitchell was undecided, and of all the infernal traits, inde-
cision is the most infernal. Through his indecision the buck
gained a great advantage over the Judge, and forced him back-
ward into a steaming mass of refuse hops; but the Judge, out of
breath, blown and exhausted, held on to the antlers with the
tenacity of a snapping-turtle. However, the deer got the
Judge down in that steaming mass of softness.

The Judge gasped out : " Oh ! for God's sake, Gitchell,
break its back. When I let it go it will kill me."

" Why," says Gitchell, without the least excitement, and
seemingly gratified at so much dignity in such au undignified

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 105

position, "why, don't you see I have nothing to break its back
with ? Had I better go for the Marshal ? "

By this time, to the great relief of the Judge, a valiant sub-
ject of King Gambrinus put in an appearance, and drew off the
enemy. The Judge was utterly vanquished. A bran new suit
of clothes was ruined, especially the pants. The Judge was so
badly injured that he could neither ride in a buggy nor take a
seat at the table, or anywhere else, for a month, every day of
which time he begged Gitchell to say nothing about it. Every
day Gitchell promised, and every day the town nearly burst its
sides with laughter. Gitchell never told. The Gambrinus
man kept mum, but that ferocious encounter between the
Judge and the pet deer has found its way into history.

The Registrar of the Land Office — only, as before stated,
there was no Land Office — was an out-and-out man-of-war.
He could wield a bowie ; was quick on the draw ; struck
square out from the shoulder, and could gouge out an eye, or
bite off a nose, in such a style and manner as would excite the
envy of the most fastidious backwoods fighter, and withal was
a man of remarkable coolness, as might be inferred from his
taking the anointed nose of Government without pepper or
salt. As an instance of his coolness and nerve I will relate the
following incident :

Lafayette Cotton was a first-class gambler, as well as an
eminent fighting man. Lafayette married a native-born damsel
of lascivious mien and voluptuous proportions, and became
jealous of the stalwart Registrar, who was very amorously in-
clined. Lafayette, armed to the teeth, found the Registrar at
the '•'' Montgomery," quietly engaged in billiards. Lafayette,
greatly excited, entered with revolver in hand.

"Get out of the way; I'm going to shoot! Draw and
defend yourself!" said he, rushing up to the Registrar, who
was just bridging his cue for a good shot.

106 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Without the least discomposure, or diverting his mind from
the game — without as much as turning his head — he said :

" Oh, go away, and don't bother this game ! "

The cool audacity of the man had such a remarkable effect
on the would-be murderer, that he moodily slunk out of the
room and put up his revolver, remarking : " The man must be
either crazy or a fool."

The Registrar was the hero of that day, while Cotton closed
his bank for nearly a month.

The Registrar was a most remarkable gentleman, and the
chronicler hopes his veracity will not be questioned when he
assures the reader that it took two handsful of buckshot,
fired from a double-barreled gun, to kill that remarkable
character, for such was his taking off.

In relation to these important transactions, the author
desires to say that they occurred along toward the latter part
of the summer of '53, and are somewhat out of place, as
well as in advance of still more important incidents yet to be
related.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 107

CHAPTER VII.

Joaquin Marietta and His Desperate Doings — A Reign of Terror — The
Rangers — Captain Hope and Others — The Twin Brothers, Green and
Wiley Marshall — Green's Adventures in Arizona — Death of the Two
Brothers.

STATED in the beginning of this history, on the
arrest and confession of Keyes Feliz, Joaquin Murietta,
his brother-in-law, who had for one or two years been
domiciled among the angels, decamped, and was not heard of
until the spring of 1853, when he commenced a succession
of bold and successful operations in the southern mines,
beginning at San Andres, in Calaveras County. His acts
were so bold and daring, and attended with such remarkable
success, that he drew to him all the Mexican outlaws,
cut-throats and thieves that infested the country extending
from San Diego to Stockton. !Nb one will deny the assertion
•that Joaquin in his organizations, and the successful ramifica-
tions of his various bands, his eluding capture, the secret
intelligence conveyed from points remote from each other,
manifested a degree of executive ability and genius that well
fitted him for a more honorable position than that of chief of
a band of robbers. In any country in America except the
United States, the bold defiance of the power of the govern-
ment, a half year's successful resistance, a. continuous con-'
flict with the military and civil authorities and the armed
populace — the writer repeats that in any other country in
America other than the United States — the operations of
Joaquin Marietta would have been dignified by the title

108 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER

of revolution, and the leader with that of rebel chief. For
there is little doubt in the writer's mind that Joaquin's aims
were higher than that of mere revenge and pillage. Educated
in the school of revolution in his own country, where the line
of demarkation between rebel and robber, pillager and patriot,
was dimly defined, it is easy to perceive that Joaquin felt
himself to be more the champion of his countrymen than an
outlaw and an enemy to the human race.

About the first of March depredating commenced in Cala-
veras County, by the murder and robbery of teamsters and
traveling miners. In April, emboldened by success, trading
posts and mining camps were, raided and robbed ; stages were
captured, the passengers pillaged and murdered, and a vessel
plying on the San Joaquin River was taken and stripped in
open daylight.

By the middle of May the whole country from Stockton and
San Jose to Los Angeles, a distance of 500 miles, was in arms ;
murder and rapine were the order of the day ; the bandits
seemed to be everywhere, and to strike when and where least
expected. About the first of June two companies of Rangers
were raised, one in Calaveras, under Captain Harry Love, and
one in Los Angeles, commanded by Captain Alexander Hope, a
bold spirit, in every way qualified by nature and experience to
grapple with the desperate characters who held the country
absolutely at their mercy, laughed at the officers of the law
and bade defiance to the civil government.

To show the value of our company and our appreciation, I
am permitted to make the following extract from Colonel John
O. Wheeler's great newspaper of the day, " The Southern Cali-
fornian," of date October '54. .

" Los ANGELES RANGERS. — In our last week's issue we
regret to say that we neglected to notice the active and prompt
assistance rendered by the Los Angeles Rangers in assisting in
the arrest of some of the most dangerous desperadoes in this

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 109

county, and who are, no doubt, in some way connected with
the brutal murder of Mr. Ellington, of the Monte, two of whom
are at present undergoing examination before our courts of jus-
tice. Our only excuse to offer to the Kangers is, that the
actions of this company are so prompt, active and secret, that
in almost all cases the company is out on scout, returned, and
the prisoner arraigned, before our citizens are aware of an out-
lage having been committed in our community. Within the
last few days parties of the Rangers have been scouring the
country in search of murderers and robbers from the north, who
are said to be at present in or near this county, and so far have
assisted in the capture of some, and driven others across our
border who were lurking here and trying to escape from
justice.

•' We are proud to think that this troop has the full confi-
dence of our whole community, and the cry is on all such occa-
sions as we were under the necessity of recording last week,
' Where are the Rangers?' In all of their excursions, which
have been many, their success, as our records in court will
show, have been indeed wonderful. Only three or four days ago,
on the arrival of a Sheriff from the north in search of a mur-
derer, two parties started in pursuit, one party with Under-
SherifF Hanniger, after a band of horse thieves who had stolen
some horses from Hon. A. Stearns. They returned successful
with both the thieves and horses, and the other remained on
scout lentil the murderer was taken.

" Last year our Legislature made a small appropriation for
the use of this efficient troop, part of which has been spent for
forage for the horses, equipage, and for necessary expenses
while in the field, leaving a balance on hand in the keeping of
the Treasurer of this county, which will be used for similar
purposes, not one of the troop having received one cent of
recompense for their services, as some of the Rangers in the
north did.

"We again say that we are proud of this little band, and
assert that this company at the present time can vie, under the
present Captain, with any company in this State. Our citizens
and rancheros have formerly contributed to the support of
this company, and we hope they will continue to do so.

MR. EDITOR: — We wish, through your columns, to tender

our heartfelt thanks to the Los Angeles Rangers, for the

prompt assistance rendered by that efficient corps to us, in

ferreting out the murderers of the unfortunate Major Ellington.

Yours, with respect,

THE CITIZENS OF THE MONTE.

110 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

The company carried 100 names on its rolls, and the
author hopes that, having been a member of that pioneer
military corps, he will be pardoned for the assertion that
they were as bold a band as ever flashed a sabre or answered to
the blast of a bugle. Alas ! few of that gallant troop remain.
Many followed the fortunes of the "gray-eyed m?.n of destiny,"
and their bones moulder in the tropical damps of Nicaragua.
Others fell beneath the treacherous blows of the bloody
Apache. Others were traced to the battlefields of the great
Rebellion.

A few were known to have fallen in personal broils. Most
of them died in the saddle, but not one of that old Ranger
band was ever known to find his way ignominiously to the
interior of a prison, and the few that remain are of the most
honored of onr citizens, and if the city of Los Angeles ever
had anything to be proud of, it was her heroic Ranger
defenders who rid the country of an innumerable horde of
freebooters and assassins, who threatened a war of utter exter-
mination on the comparatively few Americans that then inhab-
ited the Southern counties. The surviving members known to
be alive are W. W. Jenkins, D. W. Alexander, Cyrus Lyon,
Capt. J. Q. A. Stanley, Horace Bell, the author hereof, all of Los
Angeles County ; George McManus, merchant of Chihuahua ;
Hon. H. N. Alexander, of Arizona Territory; David Brevoort, of
New Mexico, and Montgomery Martin, of Philadelphia, the col-
league of A. P. Crittenden, they being the first Representative
in the State Legislature from Los Angeles County. The
author wishes to say that in using the word "Mexican "he
does not mean the native California rancheros, who generally
co-operated with the authorities in the suppression of outlawry
and contributed largely to the support of the Rangers.

Among the most liberal of the supporters of the Rangers
were, in. money, Phineas Banning; in horses, Don Pio Pico, the
last of the Mexican Governors, Don Ygnacio Del Valle, John

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. Ill

Rowland and the generous Isaac Williams, of Chino. I
remember at one time Seiior Del Valle sent in one hundred
well broken horses for the company to choose from, and take
them all if they suited.

About the time the Rangers took the field, one of the up-
country Sheriffs came to Los Angeles in search of some particu-
lar character, and on one beautiful Sabbath morning he was
assassinated in the street. A few days^thereafter, the Marshal
of the city, the one who succeeded the hangman, was stabbed
to the heart in open daylight, by one Senati, at the corner of
Los Angeles and Aliso streets. More will be said of Senati
hereafter. • His name figures in one of the most bloody chapters
in the history of the angels, which will be disposed of in due
time.

Only a few days later a cattle buyer, on his way to the city
from the Dominguez Rancho, was killed and robbed by one
Manuel Vergara, whose pursuit, escape and subsequent killing
at Yurna will be also related at the proper time. Midnight
raids and open day robbery and assassinations of defenseless or
unsuspecting Americans were of almost daily occurrence in
either one part of the country or another, at the time the
Rangers took the field.

We had two brothers in the company who are worthy
of mention, Green and Wiley Marshall, natives of Texas.
Young men raised on the frontier, both members of Captain
Sam Walker's famous Ranger company that gained such
renown in the war with Mexico. They were twin brothers,
and were never separated but twice in their lives, and the
second time was the last on earth. If separated only for a day
they seemed lost. A kind of homesickness would overcome
both twin brothers. They always went together on all of
our expeditions, riding side by side. They were recklessly
brave and of course perfect in the use of arms and expert in
horsemanship. Generous to a fault, the two Marshall boys

112 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

were great, favorites in the company. They were the beau
ideal of the American frontier Ranger. In the spring of '50
they started overland from Texas to California, and before they
fairly got beyond the settlements, Wiley was taken seriously
ill, so much so that after halting in camp for several days, and
Wiley still continuing ill, it was determined that the company
should proceed overland and that the sick jnan should go by
easy stages, being convalescent, to G-alveston, thence by sea
to San Francisco. After this arrangement, the brothers sep-
arated for the first time in their lives, even for a day.

Wiley arrived in San Francisco in due time, and after the
lapse of ninety days from the starting overland of his brother,
and no tidings (ninety days being deemed ample time for the
journey to San Diego, the objective point), and a month passed
and another month. Still no tidings, and Wiley went to San
Diego and anxiously waited another month, and not a rumor ot
the lost company, and the devoted brother mounted a horse,
and with a pack mule started overland alone in search of his
missing twin brother.

He found him at Tucson, an invalid, emaciated and helpless,
slowly recovering from a multiplicity of wounds, any one of
which would ordinarily have killed a person.

Green gave the following statement of his adventures, which
he related time and again to the writer, on night rides and in
bivouac, and the horrible scars visible on his person needed no
recital ; they spoke for themselves.

Green said their journey was extremely pleasant, no serious
annoyance from the Indians, fine grass for their animals, plenty
of game, which kept their camp constantly supplied with fresh
buffalo meat and venison. Their trip was one of unalloyed
pleasure to all except himself, who felt a constant and worri-
some anxiety for the loss of his brother's society. The party
numbered seventeen men. They passed the New Mexican set-
tlements on the Rio Grande, and the 90-mile Jornada from

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 113

the great river to the Pinos Altos Mountains, and had, as they
thought, passed over half the distance from the Rio Grande to
Tucson, and must have been somewhere in the vicinity of what
is now known as Apache Pass. One morning, while engaged
in packing up, they were attacked by the Apaches. Green was
stricken down senseless, and lay in that condition, as he
thought, an hour or more, when he revived and found himself
in a deluge of blood and covered with wounds. Fortunately
he had his canteen of water, which had been prepared for the
day, and still had sufficient strength to raise it to his lips and
drink. He then wiped the blood from his eyes, raised himself
by a chaparral bush and bewilderingly took in the surround-
ings. Fifty yards from where he totteringly stood, the horrible
spectacle of his slaughtered comrades, stark, mutilated and
scalped, presented themselves to his horrified view. The
savages were laughingly engaged in dividing the spoils of
the camp. He said he must have gazed on the horrid scene
for full five minutes, at the expiration of which time he began
to realize his situation. He turned to move away, and at the
first step he fell to the ground. He then took another draught
from his canteen and crawled away, some 100 yards, when he
raised himself by another bush, looked first in the direction
of the bloody camp and then in the opposite direction, and
to his inexpressible joy, within thirty yards he saw his own
mule, saddled and bridled, and just as he had left it when the
attack was made. His first thought was, would it permit him
to catch it. Ordinarily it would, but his bloody condition,
and the fright of the mule in the great excitement of the
attack, caused him grave and harrowing doubts of its permit-
ting him even to approach it. No time, however, was to
be lost, and he first spoke to the mule, and to his utter
surprise and joy, with a low bray of seeming delight, it came
directly up and stood beside him. With another draught

which emptied the canteen and a desperate effort, he succeeded
8

114 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

in mounting, and the faithful and intelligent animal without
any guidance, or urging forward, moved hastily away, over the
chaparral-covered plains. By this time the sun had nearly
reached meridian, and onward went the faithful mule, poor
Green exerting to his utmost his fast-failing strength to main-
tain himself in the saddle. At last the poor mule quickened
her pace, she had scented water. In an hour more, which
brought the time to about the middle of the afternoon, the
lig"ht-footed little mule brought him to a beautiful cienega
(oasis) fringed with shady willows. He dismounted and
quenched his burning thirst and cooled his heated head in the
limpid water, and laid him down to rest in the protecting
shade of one of the trees bordering the cienega. In a brief
space of time he fell asleep, and slept delightfully for at least
two hours. He awoke to find his faithful companion quietly
grazing on the luxuriant grass that abounded in profusion. It
was nearly sunset, and he began seriously and calmly to con-
sider the situation. Another drink and he felt strong. He
then proceeded to strip his mule of saddle and bridle and tie
her with the picket rope, which had been coiled and securely
fastened to the pommel of his saddle. The next thing was to
attempt an examination of his wounds. His face and nose were
slashed open horizontally across, which seemed to have been
done by a lance thrust transversely under the nose, and cutting
outwardly through the surface. He found three lance thrusts
through his body, and one that seemed to penetrate the lungs.
Fortunately he had a change of clothing inside his blankets,
which had been strapped on behind his saddle, so he proceeded
to remove his bloody clothes, wash himself as best he could,
and bandage his wounds. He then dressed himself and felt
somewhat comfortable, spread his blankets and again went to
sleep. When morning came he felt the gnawings of hunger,
and set himself to work to prepare his breakfast. Arras he had
none, save his knife. Whether or not he had used his rifle and

REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER. 115

revolvers, he had no recollection. However, a man of his
schooling is seldom without resources. He had his Mexican
mecha (flint and steel), and he proceeded to make a fire. He
then dug some tule roots, roasted and ate them. He then
procured some prickly pears, burned the thorns off, carefully
scraped them, split them in two and bound them to his wounds.
He then put in the whole day in roasting tule roots for his
onward journey toward the setting sun. Another night in
camp, a breakfast of roots, a canteen full of water, a copious
draught, and the forlorn but brave young fellow took up his
line of march, determined to defy even fate itself. The first
day exhausted his canteen of water ; on the fourth his roots
were gone, and his case seemed hopeless. The fifth day and no
water, and he made a camp and passed the night in a half-
delirious state. In the morning he determined to sacrifice his
last and only friend, the mule ; but how was he to do even that,
he had his bowie knife, but not the strength to use it. After
mature deliberation he securely tied the mule's head to a sub-
stantial bush, and supporting himself by its neck he drove the
knife into its neck vein. It stood perfectly still, and he glued
his lips to its gushing life-stream and satisfied both thirst and
hunger. He then filled his canteen with the blood of his faith-
ful companion, and by this time it sank down and expired.
He put in another day in cutting up and jerking the mule's
meat, and on the following day he recommenced his journey
westward. On foot and solitary he pursued his lonely march.
Sometimes, but seldom, he would find water. The second day
after killing his mule, he struck a road and then lost it ; he
counted the days up to fifteen and then became delirious and
insensible to all around him. When he regained his reason he
found himself in a clean bed and a comfortable room, and soon
learned that he was in the house of a benevolent priest of a
Mexican village that proved to be Tuscon ; that some herders
in search of cattle had found him wandering aimlessly on the

116 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

burning desert, about twenty miles from the village ; had ad-
ministered such relief as they could, and then brought him to
the. priest, under whose benevolent care he had then been two
weeks.

The priest informed him that in addition do the other horri-
ble wounds, the air passed through a great opening under his
left breast to the lungs. H« said it took him another full week
to collect his scattered senses and remember the horrible occur-
rences just detailed. Late in the season Green, in company with
his twin brother, arrived in safety in Los Angeles, and after-
wards became members of the Ranger Company.

During the troublous times of '52, '53 and '54, sufficient
excitement was furnished in the southern counties to satisfy
the most mercurial adventurer, but in '55 and '56 dull times
began to grow apace, and the restless spirits of the country
began to cast about for more prolific fields of adventure. In
the summer of '56 the Marshall brothers made up their minds
to go to Nicaragua and join their fortunes with the conquering
filibusters who ruled that country. Wiley went down first,
leaving Green to settle up some mining business in Calaveras
County. Green failed to arrive in August, as intended, and
in September Wiley was appointed to the command of an
impoitant enterprise known in the history of the filibuster war
as the "Hair-brained expedition of Wiley Marshall. 1 ' A hun-
dred men mounted and armed with revolvers, went sixty miles
to attack a fortress defended by five times their number —
one of the most foolhardy attempts — not exceeded in stupid
gallantry by Texas Tom Green storming an iron-clad gunboat
on Red liiver with double-barreled shotguns. Of course the
expedition failed — a bloody repulse was the result. When the
expedition left Masaya, where the writer was stationed, Wiley
came to take his leave, and the writer inquired when he
thought Green would be down. He answered nervously, " Oh,
didn't I tell you ? Green is dead."

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 117

"Impossible," said I; "did we not hear from him by the
last steamer?"

"Oh, yes." he replied, "but he died day before yesterday,
and I am only half a man now," and he smiled sadly.

" Don't look so incredulous," said he. " I knew the very
moment of his death, and thought I was going myself at the
time, and nothing but the excitement of this important com-
mand would have sufficed to arouse me from the shock."

Thirty hours later and Wiley was dead. His command was
cut to pieces by the enemy, repulsed, driven, and followed
eighteen miles by the enemy's lancers. Wiley had his thigh
shattered by a ball ; was mounted on his horse, and rode that
eighteen miles with his shattered leg dangling at the side of his
horse, all the time insisting on maintaining his position in the
rear of his flying command. Arriving at a place of safety he
was taken off his horse, and died in less than two minutes.

I afterwards learned that Green, the twin brother, died in
California on the very day stated by Wiley, and they were
3,000 miles apart at the time, The writer relates this as a
fact, and leaves it to science to explain the cause if it can.

This digression has led the reader a long way from Southern
California, but when informed that many now residing in Los
Angeles remember the two IJilai shall boys, even if not so familiar
with the peculiar and mysterious affinity existing between them
as was the writer, and the remarkable tenacity of life, as mani-
fested by both brothers, was so peculiar in itself, the narrative
having also a tendency to show the manner of men composing
the Ranger company, and the dangers encountered in getting
to this laud of gold in early times, all of which is certainly a
reasonable excuse for the digression.

118 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER VIII.

The Great Western Napoleon — The Grand Gringo Campaign Against the
Desert Indians — Don Benito Wilson, the Honest Indian Agent — The
Indians Steal His Horses — A Vindictive Pursuit — Don Vicente de
La Osa and His Reinforcement — The Padres of Old.

humble military chronicler proposes in the future,
as he has done in the past, to write up all the wars
and campaigns in which he has ever participated,
not for self glorification, or with the vain hope of being
considered a military critic, but with the unselfish desire to
enroll on the page of history the names of all the great
military commanders under whom he has had the honor of
serving, in a subordinate capacity. In the past he has had
somewhat to say of his first campaign, under the immortal
Winn in hig famous and sanguinary "El Dorado war," in
1850. He has written up the murderous conflict in Nicaragua,
and has given to the world an unvarnished picture of the
"gray-eyed man," who deluged that fair country in blood and
left her proud cities smouldering ruins. In the future he pro-
poses, in his most truthful style, to give an account of some of
the grand reviews, marches and countermarches, advances and
retreats, of "the Great Western Napoleon," and will dilate
largely on General Banks' grand cotton grabbing expedition up
Red River, and will say a great deal about the grand and
splendid strategic sparring by those two great masters in the
art, Edward R. S. Canby and John Bankhead Magruder, with
St. Louis as the stake played for. But the present page will be
devoted to the last grand campaign of the warlike angels

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 119

against the barbaric horde that had from the days of "Los
Fundadores," made periodical predatory raids into this fair
and fat land, for the purpose of stocking their ever depleted
larders with sirloins and steaks cut fresh from our noble mus-

•

tangs. The noble red men of the mountains and desert had
worried the haughty Spaniard greatly, was sometimes pursued
by him vigorously, was often spitted on the lance of the
revengeful Spaniard, who objected to having his worldly wealth
driven off and converted into mince pies by those aboriginal
cooks, who did not even know the use of Chili peppers. The
war between the Spaniard and the desert Indian was vindictive
in the extreme ; prisoners were seldpm taken on either side,
the Spaniard, well knowing that if taken alive, death by fire
and torture awaited him. While on the other hand, the
Indian, if captured, was subject to a fate not less cruel, that
is to say, he was unceremoniously turned over to the gentle
Mission priests, was duly baptized, taught the catechism
converted into a first-class Christian and a most useful slave,
and had his soul saved at the expense of his body. Lassoing
converts was the most noble occupation of the time, and tradi-
tion gives the name and exploits of a certain devout friar, who
earned a crown immortal by his success in capturing converts
with the lasso and converting them with the lash.

The last aboriginal foray, and the first American pursuit, is
to be the present task of this proud historian, .who feels great
pride in making known to the world that he served personally
in a campaign so brilliant, so decisive, a pursuit so energetic, so
rapid, so vindictive, as to ever after deter the barbarians from
an attempt to steal mustangs from the descendants of Boone,
Kenton and other great American backwoodsmen, who always
killed an Indian before they skinned him .

To be brief and to the point (and brevity and pointedness are
the greatest of all literary virtues), in the Spring of 1852, the
Great Father, at the Capital of our great country, appointed

120 REMINISCENCES OK A RANGER.

our highly esteemed fellow-citizen, Don Benito Wilson, step-
father to all the Indians hereabouts; and a good step-father,
sure enough, was generous old Don Banito to his dusky proteges.
Don Benito seemed tp love all mankind. .No doubt exists in
the mind of this chronicler that Don Benito did love the whole
human family; and Don Benito seemed to have a special love
and regard for the red branch thereof — the poor Indian. He
always had a smile, a kind word, and was wont to manifest his
love for his charge in substantial gratuities. But one time Don
Benito got mad at the Indians, and, like the immortal Wash-
ington, in .his wrath he was terrible. Who can blame the kind-
hearted Indian agent for -getting mad at the Indians, when on
their last grand raid into this happy valley the rascally redskins
stole a great number of harses from Don Benito, and not even
the hair of a horse did the ungrateful vagabonds of the desert
steal from anybody else. The idea of Indians stealing horses
from the only honest Indian agent possibly that ever breathed
the foul air of the Indian Bureau — one who had never even
contemplated or thought of the ease of making ten dollars out
of a pair of two-dollar blankets ! Don Benito, without doubt,
was an out-and-out honest Indian agent, and the Indians that
stole his horses, and passed through other men's herds to get
at them, were the most ungrateful and rascally set of redskins
that the bloody page of history gives any account of.

In May, 1853, just before the organization of the Ranger
Company, the desert Indians came through the Soledad Pass,
then over the rugged San Fernando mountains, rode past the
many herds grazing in the San Fernando valley, came through
the Cahuenga Pass, crossed the Brea Rancho, teeming with
equine life, swept over the Rancho Rodeo de las Aguas, and
raided Don Benito's ranch beyond, and retraced their steps by
the way they came in, religiously respecting the rights of proper-
ty in all others save Don Benito's. Certainly a strange freak of
aboriginal human nature. When the raiders came in we were

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 121

not exactly informed. They had been concealed in one of the
canons of the Cahuenga range, had stolen the horses and
departed on a Sunday night, and on Monday morning the news
was brought in to the indignant agent, who called for volun-
teers to pursue and recapture his stolen property, and to
properly chastise the ungrateful wretches. In two hours the
Gringo element was astir. Ferocious looking warriors dashed
up and down Main street, with an immense clatter of spurs,
with comfortable-looking rolls of blankets substantially strapped
on behind their saddles, which said blankets had been patriot-
ically and gratuitously given by our generous merchants. Can-
teens were in great demand, and when a hero was fortunate
enough to secure one, away he would dash to the "Bella
Union" or the "Montgomery," where the canteen would be
passed in to generous old Hodges, of the former place, or to the
chivalrous Getman, of the latter, and the said canteens would
be promptly returned to their respective owners, filled with
something more efficacious on a campaign than holy water or
cold tea. Moving an army is a slow, business, moving volun-
teers is aggravatingly slow, and several times we mustered to
march, and still some sluggard was not yet ready. So it must
have been full one o'clock when we boldly marched forth with
the determination fully expressed in the eagle eye of our Colonel
— for be it known, gentle reader, that up to that campaign
Don Benito had only been a simple Captain. It was on that
grand and warlike occasion, 1 believe, that our gallant comman-
der won his imaginary spread eagles. As before stated, we
boldly marched forth with the determination fully expressed in
the eagle eye of our Colonel, and brilliantly reflected by the eyes
of all that gallant band, to skin Indians enough to supply the
demand for razor straps for the next generation.

We marched out in '-'column of fours," the brave author
forming a column with the lamented Billy Reader, Bill Jenkins
and Cy. Lyon. A more gallant quartette, judging from our

122 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

respective opinion of ourselves, never rode forth to uphold
civilization or cut down an infidel. Cy. wanted to know if we
thought we could scalp an Indian without dismounting. He
said he could, and his red head looked redder. Poor Billy
Reader said our commander was a Christian gentleman, and
would not permit such barbarous acts. Bill Jenkins, who
always had an eye to the substantial, said he had no intention
of either killing or scalping, but he would like to capture about
a dozen or so of stout young bucks, as he proposed to com-
mence the planting and cultivation of a vineyard, and he
begged us, his three comrades, to spare our prisoners for his
sake.

In two hours we were at the Colonel's ranch, where we did
ample justice to well-cooked beef, coffee and tortillas. We
then made inquiry as to the number of mustangs stolen, and
staked our horses out to graze, by which time the brilliant orb
of day had gone quietly to rest behind those horrid hills of
Santa Monica. The warriors concluded to rest their weary
limbs and enjoy the bountiful hospitality of our brave and
generous commander, and pass the night at the ranch. Of
course our fiery chargers would be in better plight for a forced
march on the morrow. So, with a repetition of beef, tortillas
and coffee, the brave and determined band disposed of itself for
the night, before comfortable camp fires, wrapped in the most
comfortable blankets, to dream of victory on the morrow. The
morrow came, of course, and with it the third repetition of
beef, tortillas and coffee, which was discussed with as much
solemnity as was the last supper of the brave Spartan band at
the pass of Thermopylae, when their profane captain informed
them that it was quite probable they would breakfast in hell.
This historian repeats that we ate a hearty breakfast, for the
reason that each warrior well knew and evidently realized that
we were going forth from the Valley of the Angels to do battle
with the savage in the great desert beyond.

REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER. 123

We feasted like veterans ; no confusion, no hurry ; all cool-
ness, except the coffee, which was deliciously hot. It must
have been nine o'clock A. M. by the time our brave commander
mustered his gallant band for the deliberately-planned pursuit.
Our commander dispensed with the usual formality of a speech,
but his manner was more eloquent than words. His unspoken
words, which were mutely responded to by that heroic band of
which this proud historian boasts of having been one, were :
" We will let those rascally redskins know that they have no
longer to deal with the Spaniard or the Mexican, but with the
invincible race of American backwoodsmen, which has driven
the savage from Plymouth Rock to the Rocky Mountains, and
has headed him off here on the western shore of the continent,
and will drive him back to meet his kindred fleeing westward,
all to be drowned in the great Salt Lake/'

Those were the noble sentiments that inspired this patriotic
historian, and were participated in, of course, by all that
devoted band on that martial occasion. We marched, we moved
up that canon, known to-day as "Beach's Canon," until it
grew quite narrow, when our cool-headed commander ordered
a halt, and addressed himself to Billy Sandford, who was
second in command of the expedition, and said: "I think we
had better get out of this canon and on to the ridge." While
thus halted he told us a story, while the command inspected
canteens, many of which, on being shaken, emitted sounds un-
satisfactory to a military ear. Our commander said that on
the occasion or a former raid into the valley, the Indians were
pursued by a party under Andres Pico, who followed them up
a canon, and that the Indians concealed themselves in the chap-
arral, and after having permitted their pursuers to pass, at-
tacked them in the rear, and tried to drive them ahead with
their herd of stolen mustangs. Andres, however, objected to
being driven forward, faced his command about, and desper-
ately charged through the savages; and after having cut his

-

124 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

way out, said to his- subordinates, " Great God, what a magnifi-
cent escape." We all laughed heartily at the story, and our
commander said he proposed to profit by the fortunate experience
of the gallant Andres, and never lead an army into a canon.
Canteens were duly passed, and- each warrior gazed thoughtfully
at the rugged hight above, and when this pious ceremony was
over, our commander took the lead and commenced the laborious
task of surmounting that ridge. Owing to the density of the
chaparral the ascent was terribly difficult, and had the ridge
been crowned with blazing batteries, as was the famous Lookout
Mountain, I doubt if we had ever attained its rugged summit.
However, after hours of scrambling, we not only surmounted
the ridge, but in safety stood on the summit of the Cahuenga
range and gazed on the magnificent San Fernando Valley, in
all its beauty, like a great green carpet spread out before us,
and the Valley of the Angels and the Pacific ocean in our
rear. Two hours later, in the middle of the afternoon, we
drew up in martial array before the hospitable castle of the
lordly Don Vicente de la Osa, the baronial proprietor of
the Rancho del Encino, who cordially invited us to dismount,
stake our jaded mustangs and refresh the inner man, an
invitation we joyfully acceded to, for the reason that the six
mile march over those rugged hights had jaded the warrior as
well as the war horse.

Mustangs staked, there commenced a doleful and disap-
pointed shaking of canteens, which the jovial old Don Vicente
observing, said, "Que le hace? aqui hay bastante." (What's
the matter; there is plenty here.) And in the twinkling of
an eye a demijohn was duly mustered in as a welcome rein-
forcement to our warlike party. For two hours more those
redskin raiders had a respite from that vindictive, vigorous
pursuit. At the end of the two hours, however, there had
been the fourth repetition of beef, tortillas and coffee. Then
we held a council of war, of which Don Vicente became the

KEMINlSCENCfCS OF A RANGER. 125

principal spokesman. He said the Indians had passed his
ranch at about midnight ; that at daylight on Monday morn-
ing they crossed the San Fernando mountains, and were just
forty hours ahead of us ; that they were evidently Owens
River Indians, and well on their way to that desert fastness,
and it would be folly to think of further successful pursuit.
We had been two days on the march, were fifteen miles from
our base of liquid supplies ; the ammunition carried in our
canteens was utterly exhausted. We had done all that invinci-
ble gringos could be expected to do. We felt sure that gringo
prestige had not suffered, even if the contributors of blankets
and liquid supplies had. That the Indian raiders had made a
"magnificent escape," and that they had at least suffered
a great scare, this last fact being duly verified by subsequent
history, this being the first time they were ever pursued by the
American conquerers, and this famous raid being the last ever
made by the Indians into the Valley of the Angels.

It is with the greatest possible reverence I refer to the Mis-
sion Fathers, and their manner of dealing with the Indians.
My opinion of and respect for those holy men is such that,
feeling my matter-of-fact, prosaic style wholly inadequate for
expression, I have therefore enlisted in that behoof my poetic
friend, Albert Fenner Kercheval, and will finish this chapter
with his lively poem.

THE PADRES OP OLD.

They were merry old fellows in cassock and gown,

Those jolly old knights of the smooth-shaven crown,.

Those lion-souled, eagle-eyed Padres of Spain,

Who lorded it grandly o'er mountain ana plain ;

As ready with fair Senorita to dance

As grant absolution, or balance a lance;

Whose churches and missions impregnable stood,

And did to the heathen what seemed to them good ;

They brought up proud sinners with sharp, sudden pulls, .

And lassoed their converts like broncos and bulls,

Or gathered confessions from red, rosy lips,

126 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

To hoard as the treasure the honey bee sips,

With hands that were ready and hearts that were bold :

How I envy those clean-shaven Padres of old!

With fair purple vineyards and wide-spreading flocks,

They sighed not for riches, they cared not for " stocks " —

Not "Comstocks," at least, though they bellowed and gored,

And fought for a " rise " at the Devil's " Big Board "

With a genuine reckless " Bonanza King's" gieed,

And cornered the stock in eternity's "lead,"

Refusing all offers of Satan to sell

" Salvation's " sure stock, though they " shorted " on " Hell,

And played for the kingdom, with Satan and sin,

When souls were the " divvys," and gathered them in ;

With stores of frijoles and flagons of wine,

They craved not the treasures of city or mine;

With princely possessions to have and to hold,

They were bully old fellows—those Padres of old.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 127

CHAPTER IX.

The Great Ohio Mail Robber Seeks Refuge in Los Angeles and is Arrested —
The Royal Bengal Tiger — A Stir Among the Angels — A Coel Lawyer —
Fourth of July Celebration at San Pedro and Los A.ngeles — Alexander
& Banning — Don Juan Sepulveda and the Patriotic Spanish-Ameri-
cans — A Reminiscence by an Old Mexican Captain — Commodore
Mervine's March on Los Angeles — His Repulse — Patriotic Mexicans
Fire a Salute Over the Americans Killed in the Battle — Brave
Higuera — A Curious Court Scene.

*N MAY 1853, we' had a very illustrious accession to our
gringo element in the person of General 0. B. Hinton,
formerly of Ohio, and one of the great western orators
of the early times. The General was accompanied by his wife,
a most lusciously beautiful woman of about eighteen or twenty
summers that seemed to have passed gently over her fair form
and face. The General was rough and grizzled with the storms
of over half a century of rugged western winters, and registered
himself at the Star Hotel, as "Samuel B. Gordon and lady,
Portland, Oregon," and at once gave out that he was an Oregon
lawyer of lucrative practice, and had only sought our genial
clime on account of the fair flower that accompanied him being
too delicate to withstand the chill fogs and Siberian blasts of
Oregon. In a brief space of time the General became proprie-
tor of the hotel, in which ne placed the " Royal Bengal Tiger,"
by name, Abdul Crib Mullah, as steward, and hung out his
shingle as one of our pioneer attorneys, and was the first to file
in our court a divorce suit. Everything seemed to flourish with
the distinguished gentleman for a time. The Fourth of July
rolled around in its usual way, and Samuel was the orator of

128 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the day. It so happened that we had one Dave Khinehardt
here, who had, in the prosperous days of the eminent gentle-
man, rendered service in the capacity of coachman, hostler, or
something of the sort, and it still further happened that Samuel
B. had, most unfortunately for himself, failed to pay Dave for
the same service, and it still more unfortunately happened that
the great Oregon lawyer was a great offender against the
Government, and a fugitive from justice, and Dave knew all
about it. So one morning while Samuel was trying our first
divorce suit, that of Malcom vs. Malcom, the frail defendant
being one of our fair California Spanish ladies who was proven
to have played false to her marriage vow and to her noble
gringo master. The elegant John H. Hughes was on the stand
as a witness and had just sworn to his personal knowledge of
the defendant's delinquency, when a Deputy United States
Marshal laid heavy hands on the great fugitive and read to him
his warrant of arrest. Talk about self possession, but I assure
the reader on the honor of a veracious story-teller, that that
lawyer showed no manner of trepidation, uneasiness or discompo-
sure, but politely requesting the astonished official to excuse
him until he had discharged his duty to bis client, quietly
resumed his case which was argued and submitted, and then he,
with a polite apology to the officer for having kept him waiting
placed himself at his disposition, was taken to the old adobe
on the hill, was tenderly chained and staked out on that old
historical pine log, and then the inquiry went like wildfire,
" Who is he ; what has he done?" And the arrest caused quite
a stir among us gentle angels. It required about two days to
learn all about the strange old man and his previous history,
his crimes against the government; his arrest, escape and flight,
and his final capture in the manner and place above described.
General 0. B. Hinton was a distinguished Ohio politician, a
great mail contractor, and owner of many stage lines in the
western states, was a United States mail agent, and had sue-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 129

cessfully robbed the mails without being suspected, for a
succession of years, was at last suspected, decoyed and entrap-
ped ; was arrested and thrown in jail. His sons were men
of means. The jailer was supposed to have been bribed, and
the distinguished captive escaped, got on board a New Orleans
steamer, from which he transhipped to a Havana steamer, and
in safety walked the soil of the faithful isle. He was followed to
New Orleans, and a steamer was chartered and pursued him to
the harbor of Havana, but the great mail robber was safe for
the time being under the crown of Spain. This occurred, I
believe, in 1849 or 1850. The fact of his being so vigorously
pursued gave him a bad notoriety in Cuba, and he was placed
under surveillance. The Government secretly offered $40,000
for his arrest and delivery ; he fled from Cuba and came to
San Francisco, and the first man he met recognized him.
Whither to flee he knew not. He saw a steamship with her
smoke stacks emitting volumes of black smoke, and as soon as
he could rid himself of his old acquaintance, he walked on
board without inquiring the destination of the craft, which
turned out to be Portland, Oregon, where he arrived and
remained, went into business, prospered, married the fair crea-
ture who accompanied him, and continued in Portland until
again recognized ; took the steamer to San Francisco ; and
the steamer to Los Angeles being the first to leave, he came
here as above stated. General Kichardson, the United States
Marshal, came here in person for the eminent ex-politician,
appointed . a squad of special deputies, of whom the pious
writer was one, to convey him safely on board the steamer at
San Pedro. The Marshal safely arrived in San Francisco with
his important charge, and two days thereafter he, the mail
robber, was on his wa> to the Sandwich Islands, having
escaped the meshes of the law on a writ of habeas corpus.
That was the last ever known of our illustrious quondam
Fourth of July orator and hotel proprietor. His fair young

130 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

wife eloped with a gambler and went to San Diego, which was
the last known of her.

It transpired that Dave Rhinehardt interviewed the great
fugitive, and promised if he would pay his past indebtedness
his secret would be kept, and if not mistaken, I believe he
paid Dave, who afterwards gave information to our convivial
and warlike United States District Attorney. This incident
has only been related to show what a great loss we -sustained
when the General was taken away from us. Generals were
Generals in those days, and we deeply felt the great loss we
sustained on that occasion. What eminence the General might
have attained among the angels is hard to say. It is quite
certain, however, that, had he remained and taken up with the
noble trade of office-seeking, he might have attained eminent
local distinction.

Speaking of Fourth of July celebrations, reminds me of the
most particularly convivial one that this very patriotic his-
torian ever participated in, which occurred at San Pedro in
that memorable year 1853. That ancient commercial entrepot
was larger then than at present, the founding of Wilmington
not having as yet been projected by General Banning, its
illustrious founder and patron. The glory of San Pedro,
as that of imperial Rome, proud Venice and expectant San
Diego, has departed, the author fears never to return ;
Carthage had her rival in Rome ; San Pedro had a merciless
rival in fair Wilmington, and now you behold a dilapidated
sheep corral that seems to say in solemn silence, " Here stood
San Pedro, the peerless."

San Pedro was at the time referred to a great place ; it had
no streets, for none were necessary. No prison admonished the
evil-doer to give San Pedro a wide berth. No church invited
the piously-inclined to seek religious consolation at the lively
port. No ! there was nothing of that sort, but the author
solemnly asseverates that there was a liberty pole at San Pedro,

REMINISCENCES OF A EANGER. 131

from which proudly floated the Flag of Freedom. That there
were two mud scows, a ship's anchor and a fishing boat, a mul-
tiplicity of old broken-down Mexican carts, a house, a large
hay-stack and mule corral, and our old friend the gallant Laura
Sevan, floating swan-like at her anchorage, on that beautiful
Fourth of July.

Alexander and Banning administered the government at San
Pedro at the time mentioned. Don George Alexander, he of
the big heart, worthy brother of the generous Don David, a
noble, whole-souled, true-hearted American, bursting and boil-
ing over with love of country and patriotism; and ardent
Phineas, who was not then even a captain, and did not dream
of ever adorning his well-developed shoulders with stars
plucked from the American constellation. Phineas Banning
has, since that memorable '53, risen to the rank of General —
an honest and well-merited distinction, merited if for no other
service save the princely hospitality dispensed on our first
national feast day above referred to, w r hich he has continued to
the present day. It is useless to say that Banning is still on
hand on every patriotic occasion ; but generous old Don Goorge,
after a quarter of a century of usefulness spent among us
betook himself to some other field of enterprise, and is, I
believe, yet living, and may God speed him — for a truer patriot
or better Christian never -dwelt in the blessed land of the
angels.

For a week or more the patriotic proprietors of San Pedro
gave out by word of mouth, and published in both English and
Spanish, a general invitation to the whole county and the
counties adjoining, and to the world, including San Bernardino,
then exclusively Mormon, San Diego and Mexico, to come to
San Pedro and assist in the patriotic demonstrations to be then
and there held. On the morning of the 3d, Alexander and
Banning's stages left the Angels for San Pedro crowded with
guests, and returned for another living freight; every imaginable

132 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

conveyance to be found in the city, from Lanfranco's pioneer
sulky to a Mexican cart, was pressed into service, and
troops of gaily dressed and splendidly mounted caballeros,
accompanied by light and airy equestriennes, were seen tak-
ing up their line of march to the place of promised fes-
tivities, while old Uncle Dave Anderson, boiling over with
patriotic music, was seen going out of town prominently seated
in a grand improvised music car, accompanied by the elite of
our angelic musical world, while the whole country seemed to
be on the move by noon of the 3d of July. The happy and
light-hearted rancheros who, up to that time, knew not of
trouble, hard times or oppressive taxation, turned out in force
to assist their new-made kinsfolk, the liberty-loving Yankees,
in celebrating the common birthday of liberty, and by the
time the shades of evening fell on the patriotic city, 2,000
guests, of all ages, sexes and nationalities, had paid their
respects to their liberal entertainers, who, until the evening of
the 5th, dispensed a hospitality more than princely. It was
superlatively royal, it was grand, full-handed and without
stint.

That gallant old Yankee skipper, Captain Morton, put in
an appearance several days prior to the Fourth with his beauti-
ful little clipper the Laura Sevan, freighted with good things
both edible and drinkable for the grand and hospitable occasion.
The unpatriotic reader will naturally inquire where we all ate
and slept when there was but one house in the city. Answering
for one patriot, the author will say that he did not sleep during
the time spent in merry-making, and as for eating, it was one
perpetual eat. The long dining table was kept going every
hour, night and day; the musicians and dancers relieved each
other; those not engaged in eating or dancing were engaged
in toasting, responding to toasts, speech-making or singing
patriotic songs. A crowd of Americans roared "Hail Colum-
bia," another crowd the " Star Spangled Banner" and "Yankee

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 133

Doodle," a knot of gay Frenchmen made night melodious with
the soul inspiring "Marseillaise," while the patriotic Mexican
kept up the " Ponchada " and

" Marchamos Mexicauos,
March amoft con valor,

Y viva la libel tad."

In this manner we passed the night of the 3d. On the
morning of the 4th a grand procession was formed with jovial
old Judge Dryden on foot as Grand Marshal. Over a thousand
patriots were in line. We did not march through the principal
streets, but marched around and around the liberty pole, hur-
rahing and cheering all the time the gay flag of freedom that
. so proudly floated over us. The procession then formed a
grand hollow square and each patriot was given a bottle of
champagne with the cork started and a glass. When this dispo-
sition was made, Don George stepped out in front of the hollow
square and requested the attention of the guests. Every man
was silent attention. Then said patriotic Don George, and his
words were duly interpreted into Spanish and French :

"Gentlemen, 1 will give a toast which when drank will be fol-
lowed with three cheers. Gentlemen, here is to the Presi-
dent of the United States." Every man drank, and three
immense cheers followed. Every man drank, and cheered except

one, Tom , he who pitted himself against old Dimmick

in defense of the Rangers when arrested for cat-hauling the
city Marshal heretofore referred to. Tom stood grim and silent
until the cheering had subsided, when he deliberately smashed
his bottle on the ground, tossed his glass to one side and swore
he wouldn't drink to any d — d loco foco. Frank Pierce was
President and Tom was a Whig. Not a word from that
crowd of patriots ; all was dignifiedly silent, and Don George,
without so much as a ripple on his serene countenance,
requested the grand Marshal to dismiss the parade. Don
George was greatly annoyed, as the sequel will show, although

134 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

too well bred to notice the breach of patriotic good breeding at
the time, but two years thereafter he played even on Tom, as
I will yet inform the reader. After the dismissal of the grand
parade as above stated, Captain Morton announced his vessel
as ready to give such as felt so disposed a sea trip, while the
writer accompanied Don Juan Sepulveda to Dead Man's
Island, to fire a national salute. Don Juan in the exuberance
of his patriotism, had unearthed a venerable field piece which
had enjoyed the silence of the grave since it had fired its last
shot in defense of Mexican Territory. Captain Sepulveda
mustered and embarked his command on a large boat and
proceeded up Wilmington Bay, where he embarked his
artillery and sailed for Dead Man's Island, where, after infinite
labor, he succeeded in mounting his battery on the highest point
of the island, and all being ready, we let loose such a thunder as
was never exceeded by one gun. It seemed that we would wake
the seven sleeping heroes who so quietly reposed on the little
barren rock. Don Juan said the firing would serve a triple
purpose, it would dissipate the last vestige of unfriendly feel-
ing that may have lingered in the bosoms of the sons of the
country towards the United States ; that it would serve to
express^our gratitude to the great founders of modern liberty ;
and it would be an appropriate salute to the seven brave
mariners who lost their lives in their country's service, and
after the first salvo, and while paying our respects to our
liquid ammunition, Don Juan proceeded to tell us how the
seven sailors came to be killed. Their wooden head-boards
stood in line in front of us. Said Don Juan : "El Comodoro
(meaning Commodore Mervine, U. S. Navy), made his
advance on Los Angeles. He made his first halt at Doniin-
guez' Kanch, and camped for the night. In the morning he
took up his line of march, with the Californian horsemen in
front, flank, and rear. The Californians, poorly armed, mostly
with lances, had an extravagant idea of Yankee prowess, and

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 135

kept at a safe distance until the Commodore had reached a
point near Compton, when we commenced to harass him. We
had this same gun mounted on a Mexican carreta, and at the
first discharge, shiver and down went one of the wheels, and
the gun being practically dismounted, our General (Carrillo)
ordered it to be abandoned, which was being done when one
Higuera left the ranks of horsemen and swore that if the
Yankees got the gun it would be over his dead body. With
his own hand, unaided he loaded it just in time to let drive at
the head of the Yankee column and killed seven men, a estos
mismos" (these same). The heroism of Higuera so inspired the
Californians that they rushed in and bodily dragged the gun
away with their lazos, and then so vigorously assailed the
invaders that they were forced to fall back, carrying these poor
fellows with them, and were glad to get safely on board their
marine fortress. • The old gun was subsequently buried near
my house, and after a nap of six years, here it is, and here am
I, and others who dragged it away at the time ; and here we
are, all of us, the old gun, the old enemies, now friends ; and
here is brave Higuera, firing a salute of honor over our former
foes, who fell in battle. What do you say, boys ? Up,
Higuera! "Viva Los Estados Unidos ! " "Viva Mexico Somos
Amigos ! "

The author feels great satisfaction in informing the reader
that brave Higuera, a true hero, can be seen at any time on our
streets, a quite old man, that one would not suspect of ever
having had the courage, single-handed and alone, to face an
army of gringos. Napoleon, for the act, would have conferred
on him the "Cross of the Legion of Honor."

# $$;:;$$

The music and festivities kept up all day, all night, and
most of the day of the 5th ; but during that day, sleepy and
worn out patriots wended their way to Los Angeles ; and so
ended this grand and patriotic affair.

136 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

About two years thereafter a convention met in Los Angeles
to nominate county officers. Don George was a delegate, and
Tom was a candidate for Sheriff.

Tom met Don George with all the winning smiles of a can-
didate, and said : " Don George, I am a candidate, as you are
aware, and of course can count on your vote."

" No, sir, you cannot," said Don George, emphatically.

"Why, Don George, what can be the matter? I am aston-
ished ; pray explain."

" Well, Mr. Tom , I hope I may forever lose my rights

as an American freeman when I give my vote to any man who
would refuse to drink to the President of the United States on

a Fourth of July. Good day, Mr. Tom ; I am not your

man."

One more anecdote of Tom.

In 1856 Tom was a Deputy U. S. Marshal under

McDuffie, and a crowd of Los Angeles men, including Tom,
were the guests of old man Armstrong of the revered St.
Nicholas at San Francisco. Tom broke his cane and gave it to
an itinerant tinker to be fixed; the cane was duly fixed and
returned but not paid for. The day following the tinker
dunned Tom, in the presence of other gentlemen, for four bits,
and for his audacity was knocked down by Tom with a chair.
Tom was arrested and duly appeared before the Police Court
for trial. When called up, Tom said: "Judge, is there any
law against a United States Deputy Marshal knocking a Dutch-
man down?"

Now it so happened that the great Vigilance Committee was
in session at San Francisco, and it still further happened that
Old Coon was Police Judge, and Old Coon had an idea that a
Dutchman had rights in this country that even a United States
Marshal was under obligations to respect ; so Old Coon said,

" Mr. Clerk, enter a fine of $20 against Mr. for contempt

of Court."

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 137

Said Tom : " Well, by Judge, that's kind of rough."

" Enter a fine of $40 against Mr. for contempt of Court."

"Well," said Tom, somewhat bewildered, ''Judge, how is
this, I want to know? "

" Mr. Clerk, enter a fine of $10 against Mr. . Now,

Mr. what have you to say about this assault and battery?"

" Guilty, sir, guilty," said Tom desperately, '" but may it
please the Court, that is not law in Los Angeles."

"Fine you $10, sir, and advise you to return to Los An-
geles."

A quarter of a century glided by and the author, in his pro-
fessional capacity of attorney, had been employed to procure a
United States patent to a Mexican grant belonging to many
owners, all of whom agreed to contribute thwir pro rata of
expense in the matter, except one, a tall, middle-aged
Avoman, who maintained that she, for twenty-five years, had a
patent to her part of the land in question. That an officer
from Washington had personally placed it in her hand, and
that it bore the great red seal of the Government. When this
information was given, the lady informed the author that on a
future visit she would show it to me and hoped I would be
satisfied. After a while the fair possessor of the Government
patent came into my office with "Ahora Veras," " Now, sir,
see," and she drew forth from a bundle of faded calico a formi-
dable looking document which, on inspection, proved to be a
certified copy of a decree of divorce in Malcom vs. J\l«".lcom.

138 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER X.

The Phantom, Spectre, or What is It? — Great Estampida — Excitement
Among the Vaqueros — Bill Solves the Mystery — John T. Lanfranco's
Pioneer Sulky — A Sharp Briar and Pious Fraud — A Sermon to the
Rangers — A Large Collection— A Midnight Raid and Important Cap-
ture — The Jackass Lawsuit — Drown and Thorn — An Irishman Can't
Give Evidence in this Court — A Test of Blood.

T THE time referred to in this chapter (July, 1853),
the plains between Los Angeles and San Pedro pre-
sented a lively spectacle, and the stranger' who made the
short journey at his leisure was constantly interested, and
always felt compensated. The vast herds of horses, and their
number seemed absolutely without limit, the many pic-
turesque horsemen driving the neighing and snorting herds in
all directions, the retainers of the Lugos, the Dominguez,
Avilas and Sepulvedas, the Stearns and Temples, all of whose
herds ranged over the plains referred to, made quite an army,
and from early dawn to the shades of evening were continually
on the move, with their jingling spurs, cavorting steeds and
whizzing riatas.

A day or two after the grand Fourth of July celebration at
San Pedro, described in the last chapter, there occurred a most
wonderful and unaccountable stampede in those grand herds,
the whole of which seemed to have lost their senses, and the
equine paterfamilias seemed to have lost entire control over
their unnumbered wives and sweethearts ; old mares in mad
frenzy trampled under foot their tender and cherished off-
spring ; the herds of Dominguez wildly mixed in with those of

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 139

Sepulveda, the Lugos with the Avilas ; and so wild and unac-
countable was the stampede that the old major domos, with
their well-trained and disciplined underlings, utterly failed to
subject to control the wild, frightened, terrified mustangs. Said
one old lazador, " The devil surely has got among the man-
adas," and he piously crossed himself. Along toward the
afternoon of the day of the grand stampede, the major domo of
old man Lugo, with the whole troop of vaqueros at his heels,
rode wildly up to the ranch house, seemingly scared out of his
wits, and said, in response to his angry master, the imperious
Lugo's inquiry of " En el nombre de Dios, que hay ? " "A
phantom ! a phantom ! " " El Diablo," said a vaquero, out of
breath ; "LTna Espanta, muy grande," said another. And it
required all of the authority of the astonished old master to
learn from his much-trusted servant that an unaccountable
something — a kind of a what-is-it — had appeared among the
herds, and had caused the utmost demoralization, not only to
the horses, but also to the vaqueros.

Fortunately "Bill, the Patron Saint of Los Cuervos, or Bill
the Most Remarkable," in memory of whom a whole chapter will
be devoted in the future, was at the castle Lugo, and mount-
ing the old Don's favorite charger, which, according to custom,
was held in constant readiness for the master's use, set forth
in quest of the phantom, espanta, or "what is it?" which
had produced the unaccountable hubbub. Bill was not afraid
of phantom, ghost or dragon dire, and like St. George,
went forth to fight and conquer the monster in whatever shape
he might present himself. The bravery of Bill so inspired
the major-domos and vaqueros, that in a short space of time
he had quite an army at his heels, and at sunset returned
to the ranch leading as gay an old mustang as the reader can
imagine, with the late John T. Lafranco's pioneer sulky in
good order and condition, safe and sound, hitched to him.
The jolly laugh of Bill, who had conquered, subdued

140 REMINISCENCES OF JL RANGE K

and captured the nondescript, explained everything. Lan-
franco, returning from the Fourth of July festivities at San
Pedro, landed on the roadside, and the gentle old mustang,
whose forte had been for years to chase his fellows, feeling
himself free, took to the herds as naturally as a duck to a
mud-puddle ; the plains were level and smooth, the sulky kept
its legs, so did the old horse, and the herds, frightened at
the strange appearance, wildly ran away, and the old horse,
equally astonished at such manifestation of unfriendliness,
wildly followed from herd to herd, and caused the strange
commotion as above stated. The " phantom tarantula" was
the by-word and joke of the day for a long time thereafter.

John T. Lanfrarico, an enterprising young merchant of Los
Angeles, in all truth a fortunate fellow, was paying court to
the beautiful Dofia Petra, daughter of Don Jose Sepulveda, del
Rancho Palos Verdes, on San Pedro Bay. Notwithstanding
he was a fine horseman, on one of his visits to San Francisco
he espied the " phantom," and was so impressed with the ad-
vantage its possession would give him, purchased and shipped
it to Los Angeles, and, after an infinite amount of trouble,
found au honest old mustang, who was induced to submit to
this queer change in the programme of his usefulness, and per-
mitted himself to be harnessed to the " phantom," and the
happy possessor of this novel way of ambulation became the
envied of all the fashionables of the city, gringo as well as to
the manor born. Lanfranco married Dona Petra. " Tempus
fugit ; " so says the old school-book, which reminds this happy
historian that his experience extends somewhat into the, to
some, dim past, yet, feeling all the bloom and flush of youth,
looks back through those twenty-seven years as to a midsum-
mer night's dream, shaded by the fleecy clouds of gently flitting
time. But alas ! when he sees the children and grandchildren
of John T. Lafranco and the beautiful Petra, he is forcibly re-
minded of the text that "time flies," and has taken a very long

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 141

flight since the "phantom" so frightened the herders and
stampeded the herds on our sunny southern plains.

Many, yes ! too many, of the promising incidents of those
happy times terminated in unfortunate ways. Not so this
marriage. Both husband and wife have passed hence to the
spirit-land, leaving four daughters well provided for, the three
eldest of whom have married — the first to Mr. W. S. Maxwell,
"a native son of the Golden West," and the pioneer exporter
of wheat from Los Angeles ; the second to "Walter S. Moore,
Esq., Deputy Collector of Internal Revenue ; and the third to
Mr. Samuel C. Cook, of New York, while the last is yet a
schoolmiss.

Alas ! alas ! the author, by the above, is sadly admonished
that, when time shall have taken another such flight, if still an
inhabitant of this land of magnificent promise, he will have
become an old pioneer.

Says the lamented Los Angeles centenial historian: "The
first Methodist sermon was preached June, 1850, by Rev. J. W.
Briar, at the adobe house of J. G. Nichols, where the Court House
now stands." This pious historical fact reminds the truthful
historian of a very sharp sermon preached by a divinely sharp
practitioner in 1853. Judging from the prickly name of our
pioneer preacher, we are free to surmise that his preaching must
have been pointed and sharp. To say the least it was the
entering wedge of that powerful politico -religious corporation,
the great Methodist church that now wields so much influence
among us wayward angels.

In the summer of '53, on a Sunday forenoon, quite a number
of Rangers were congregated at that old pioneer place of resort,
the " Montgomery," engaged in slinging slings, sipping juleps,
and rolling ten- pins, when a tall, lank, well dressed, reverend
looking individual, with a stiff white necktie, a stiff stove-pipe
plug, with long black hair parted in the middle, and reverendly
combed and brushed back behind his ears. The reverend looking

142 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

gentleman walked past the bar into the great ten-pin alley, and
addressing the crowd said : "Gentlemen, pray don't allow me
to' trespass upon your valuable time, but, after the game is
concluded I have a request to make." So saying, he sat him-
self down on the big redwood bench, so well remembered by
the Montgomery's surviving patrons. The game at once
stopped for the reason that the .strange appearance and the
strange request of the stranger, at once excited general curiosity,
and Getman requested the gentleman to proceed. The stranger,
rising to his feet and divinely smiling, said: "Gentlemen, I
have a favor to ask which I hope you will pardon, and at the
same time grant. It is now five minutes past eleven. I was
announced to preach in the Court House at eleven o'clock
sharp. Punctual to the minute I was at my post, but not a
soul confronted me to hear the word of God on this holy Sab-
bath. Gentlemen, I came here to preach, and 1 am going to
preach, even if to dumb adobe walls, for you know the old
saying that ' walls have ears/ Now, gentlemen, I ask you to
do me the favor to come in and hear me preach, if for only a

half hour."

«

" Woo-wu-wi-will you st-sta-sta-nd the drinks if we do?"
said stuttering Aleck, looking wistfully toward the bar room.

" Silence," said Getman ; "no irreverent joking here. Come,
boys, all of you take a drink, and let's go in and hear one up
and down old fashioned sermon ; may be it will remind us of
the old folks at home. I am going to close the house on this
special occasion."

One adobe wall separated the Montgomery from the Court
House, and after having imbibed freely of fluid inspiration,
one and all betook themselves to the rude temple of the law to
drink in the promised words of holy inspiration so freely
offered. When all were quietly seated, Getman, who as well
as being proprietor of the Montgomery, was Lieutenant of the
Hanger Company, suggested to the pious pioneer that if he

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 143

would only postpone his services for half an hour, recruiting
parties would be sent out to drum up a respectable congrega-
tion. The proposition being acceded to, parties we're dis-
patched, one to the Plaza de Toros, one to Nigger Alley,
another to the Ranger Barracks, another to Aleck Gibson's,
and one to drum around generally. Within the half hour the
reverend stranger had a most rousing and interesting congrega-
tion, composed almost exclusively of Bangers, sports and
general hard cases, and divine services were commenced. The
gifted divine preached from the text "Jesus wept," and well
he might, says this righteous Ranger. The sermon was good,
it was entertaining, argumentative and persuasive. The gist
of the argument was that even angels wept at the general
depravity of poor human nature, as seen at the profane Sab-
bath exhibitions of bull and bear fights, maromas, Mexican
circuses, horse racing and other kindred entertainments, which
were the pride and glory of our angelic population at the time
referred to. He eloquently exhorted us to abstain from ten-
pins, mint juleps and gin slings on the holy Sabbath ; also to
beware of billiards, to close the monte-banks, and fail to
patronize on that day the iniquitous places of amusement
above enumerated, for, said the holy man, "Jesus weeps at
such unholy profanations." The eloquent gentlemen made us
all feel kind of ashamed, for every one of us was guilty of
some of the "unholy profanations," and when the service was
concluded, Getman made a few remarks and solicited a contri-
bution for the strange preacher, and took up a hat into which
the ever generous Cy Lyon tossed a slug. The hat went
around and the gold fell in plentiful profusion, one conscience
smitten gambler, it was said, put in two slugs, and when the
hat had concluded its grand rounds and the proceeds were
handed over to the impressive preacher he had a stake that
would have gladdened the heart of the most sanguine mis-
sionary. The gentleman thanked the congregation for their

144 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

noble generosity and said " the pious fund should be properly
invested ; " said he " would visit San Diego and endeavor to
return and preach on the following Sabbath/' pronounced his
benediction, and the congregation dispersed. The week rolled
around and many of us looked forward with no small degree of
interest for the return of the strange and interesting mis-
sionary, but he failed to connect, and another week or two
rolled by, when it was ascertained that the miserable wolf in
sheep's clothing, the vagabond who had assumed the livery of
heaven to be used in the service of hell, was a notorious
up-country gambler, who, coming among us terrestrial angels
flat broke, had successfully played us for a stake, had invested
the "pious fund" in aguardiente, red shirts and striped calico,
and had gone to the Colorado to gamble and trade with the
Indians. We were all utterly sold and swindled, and well did
we merit the outrage, and for the following reason : About six
months prior to the happening of the sad event just related,
that eminent Christian and pioneer missionary, the Rev. Adam
Bland, had flung his banner to the breeze and was then strug-
gling like a hero to establish in an humble way the first
Protestant church among us, and would have regarded as a
great godsend the handsome sum thrown away on that itiner-
ant vagabond. We deserved to be cheated, for the reason that
we should have supported Mr. Bland and helped him along in
the good cause in which he was so energetically engaged.

" Reminiscences of a Ranger " suggests to the reader border
warfare, bloody raids, reprisals and hand-to-hand conflicts, and
all of the Bombastes Furioso paraphernalia of yellow-backed
literature, so appetizing to the hoodlum element of our modern
population ; and after the relation of one more pacific and legal
exploit of the Rangers, the thirst of the impatient reader shall
be appeased with blood. The author confesses that this his-
tory so far has been more of lawsuits than of war. He has
written of the great court-martial that tried and sentenced the

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 145

City Marshal, He has told of the first divorce suit tried 'and
determined in our pioneer courts, and of other suits. He wore
out a brand new pen in giving to the world an unbiased and
impartial history of the terrific struggle between those pioneer
legal Titans, the immortal Juan Largo and the long since
dead and forgotten Juan Chapo, for the possession of that his-
torical old mustang, that was the stepping-stone to the down-
ward career of the two litigants. The great Largo, in sheer
desperation, threw himself into the mad maelstrom of politics,
and was swallowed up in its hungry vortex. That great his-
torical lawsuit and the loss of that $10 mustang so preyed
upon the mind of the poor, .impecunious Chapo, that two years
thereafter he was sent to the State Insane Asylum and died.
That horrible legal battle ought to compensate the reader for
oceans of blood. The gentle author could have told in the
meantime of bloody broils, of assassinations without number, of
travelers waylaid and murdered almost within hearing of the
old plaza church bells. He could have written of men's ears
cut off, strung on strings, and paraded as trophies in our halls
and bar-rooms. He could have horrified the Christian reader
by telling of men's heads severed from their bleeding trunks,
and used as foot-balls 011 the public highways ; of women out-
raged and murdered in our very streets ; and of untold horrors,
which the writer hopes will remain untold on this earth for-
ever. The writer abhors the recital of such bloody horrors, but
he delights in taking the ludicrous side of the horrible history
of pioneer times, and will proceed to relate the brief facts of
another great legal conflict between the Ranger Company and
a pioneer Irishman for the possession of an innocent old jack-
ass, after which he will give the reader some blood.

The Rangers went on a midnight secret raid about
the month of August '53, of course, a strong impression
prevailed that Joaquin was in the city. So it was arranged

that the whole Ranger Company, mounted and on foot,
10

146 REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER.

should make a midnight sally and search every suspicious
house and place within the city limits. High expectations
of success were entercained. At the hour of mid-night
three parties on foot set forth to operate in Nigger Alley,
Sonora and other inside places, while parties of horsemen
made rapid raids on all the Jacals and vineyards, the
suburbs and out of the way corners. The search was well
conducted and thorough, but utterly without fruits, and at
daylight all the Rangers had reported back to headquarters,
crestfallen and disappointed, all without captures and trophies
except that one party .brought in a forlorn-looking jackass that
was promptly spouted in Nigger Alley for aguardiente, and
became the prolific source of the remarkable lawsuit that is
now the subject matter of history. On the day following, an
Irishman discovered and laid claim to his ass-ship, which said
claim was vigorously resisted by a ferocious looking Sonoreno
who kept a cantina in Niggar Alley, and had advanced the
liquid loan on the jackass security. That great and- humorous
pioneer lawyer, General Ezra Drown, appeared for the defend-
ant Mexican, who called in the festive Rangers to defend his
right to the possession of the embargoed burro. I believe
Cameron Thorn- represented the Irish plaintiff, and a native Cal-
ifornian presided as Justice of the Peace. The Rangers chival-
rously backed up the defendant, and threatening to maintain
legal title to the bitter end, demanded a jury trial. All parties
being present, including the Constable and jackass, and the
jury being duly sworn to try the case and true verdict render
according to law and evidence, the plaintiff Irishman was
sworn and opened out, but before he could say jackass, defend-
ant's attorney brought him up on a legal round turn, and
asked him where he was born. He answered that he was born
in County Downs, in the ancient and honorable kingdom of
Ireland. Defendant's attorney then objected to the admission
of the evidence on the ground that defendant was a citizen of

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 147

the United States, and that the constitution of our great
country precluded Irishmen from giving evidence against an
American. It was very up-hill work in getting at justice in
that Court for the reason that neither of the attorneys could
speak a word of Spanish, and the Judge could not understand
a word of English, and the two lawyers had to make their
arguments and present their authorities through the medium
of the "most useful man," who was the court interpreter on
that great trial. The legal blows dealt and returned Avere
ponderous. The authorities cited were voluminous and heavy ;
how they were interpreted and presented to, or understood by
the Court are to-day enveloped in the mists of mystery and
sleep in the grave with the " most useful man." Suffice it to
say, that after two days of Herculean legal conflict, the Court
rendered its judicial fiat on the legal fate of the irate and game
son of Erin by saying, " that he himself, the Court, had per-
sonally read the great treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, and knew
that by said treaty the defendant was a full-fledged American
citizen, and as plaintiff's attorney had failed to present any
manner of treaty whatever that made the same transformation
for the Irishman the Court was reluctantly forced to the exclu-
sion of the evidence offered," and so the Court ruled. The
game Irishman, not in the least discomfited by being legally
sent to grass, at the call of time came smiling to the scratch
and presented two stalwart Californian boys to prove his legal
ownership to the contested property. Defendant's attorney,
fully alive to the great responsibility resting on his broad legal
shoulders, dealt plaintiff a stunning blow by objecting to the
proposed evidence on the ground that the witnesses were not
white men, and that defendant being a white man, none but
white men could testify against him. Plaintiff's counsel
maintained that having assumed the affirmative the burden of
proof rested on defendant to prove the witnesses not to be
white men. Defendant's attorney accordingly produced as

148 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

experts in physiology the three learned men of the city,
Doctors Swim, Gardner and Hannum, who, after testifying to
their scientific attainments, were asked if they could by any
scientific physiological certainty, determine the line of demarka-
tion between a person of pure white blood and a mongrel.
Answering emphatically in the affirmative, they were required
to examine the two witnesses and inform the Court if they
were white men or mongrels. For the information of the
reader of more modern importation it is proper to know that
at that time California was an ultra white man's government.
The learned trio conferred together for a minute, when Dr.
Gardner came up to one of the witnesses and seizing him by
the nose and chin, ordered him to open his mouth, the witness
indignantly resented the familiarity and glared defiantly on the
learned man in physiology, laid his hand threateningly on the
knife that was so conveniently sheathed in his leathern legging,
and said : "Que quierestu?" "(What do you want?) The
learned man, somewhat taken aback at this unexpected opposi
tioii to his scientific demonstration, called on counsel and Court
for assistance and protection. The Court very sensibly inquired
of the doctor the object of his unceremonious interference
with the witness' legal right to protection from rude personal
violence. Said the doctor, addressing himself to the inter-
preter, " Inform his honor that I was about to demonstrate
to the Court the difference in the six salivary glands of a
white man and those of mixed blood. Say to the Court that
in a white man the sub-maxillary gland, which is situated
within the lower jaw anterior to the angle and which opens
into the mouth by the side of the frrenum lingua 1 , and the
lingual gland which is situated between the mucous membrane
on each side of the frrenurn lingiue are elongated; in the mixed
breed they are round." This scientific lecture being duly inter-
preted to the Court, the Judge said, "No entiende," and
looked worried.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 149

Defendant's attorney then inquired of the learned experts if
there was no other way of determining to a scientific certainty
the great question at issue, and the grave and reverend seignors
again mysteriously consulted. Then Dr. Gardner answered
and said. " Yes, certainly there is," seizing the upper and lower
eyelid of the other witness and turning his eye-ball inside out,
and was greatly astonished at the subject springing to his feet,
with tears streaming from one eye and sparks of indignation
flashing from the other, and yelling carajo ! The Court or-
dered the interpreter to inquire of the learned physiologist
what he meant by such unseemly conduct, and through the
same channel of converse the doctor addressed himself to the
Court.

" Inform his honor that I was about to demonstrate that in
a white man the two small orifices called punctalachrimalia, at
their intersection with the nasal ducts, that is to say " —

"I am afraid," said the defendant's attorney, "his honor will
be unable to understand a scientific anatomical lecture through
the medium of an interpreter. Is there no more practical man-
ner of settling this question ? "

" Oh, yes," responded the doctor, drawing from his pocket a
formidable pair of old pullicans ; " you see, in the white man
the wisdom teeth grow straight down into the body of the jaw,
and have three strongly developed roots ; in the black or mixed
breeds the wisdom teeth grow solidly and firmly into the
ramus, and have but one root, and to settle this matter defi-
nitely I will now proceed to extract a wisdom tooth," and the
doctor returned to the charge, but the birds had flown. The
prey had escaped, and from that day to this the author has
never heard of any of our local courts settling that interesting
question. The witnesses saved the Court the trouble of
passing on their legal status by passing beyond the Court's
jurisdiction. The game Irishman was knocked out of time,
and having no bottle-holder, flung up the sponge, and the

150 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Custody of the jackass was legally awarded to the constitutional
American citizen, who called on the Constable for the property.
The Constable was found drunk at the Hanger barracks, and
on the day following, the jackass was found in an up-town can-
tina, where the Rangers had a second time spouted him for a
liquid advance, and the Constable had fallen a victim to the
speculation. Another suit followed, not less interesting than
the first, and while that was in process of litigation the jackass
was again abducted, and served to keep up steam at the Ranger
barracks both night and day for over a fortnight.

Reader, bear with me another law suit and then we will
have reached our bloody chapter. B. Colin, a noted merchant,
was at Ehrenburg, Arizona, and got into a law suit in a Jus-
tice's Court. The Constable was a Mexican. Cohn had no
lawyer, while his opponent was represented by the celebrated
counsellor, Charles Granville Johnston, Esq., who mounted his
legal high horse and was demolishing Cohn with quartz-crush-
ing power. Cohn stepped outside the court-room door and
beckoned the Constable to him, and slipping a coin in the ever
open official palm said, " Do you see that fellow cutting up so
there?" "SiSefior, como no?" (and why not), answered the
Constable. "Weil," said Cohn, "I want you to take that
fellow to the lock up." " Da me im papel pues;" (give me a
paper), said the Constable, and B. Cohn stepped inside the
court room for a moment and returned with one of his printed bill
headings and gave it to the Constable, who said "Esta bueno."
Then the Constable invited the counsellor outside of the court
room and called a couple of stalwart Sonoreflos and informed
them that he had a heavy and refractory prisoner to carry
to the calaboose, and desired their assistance, and the three
piled in on poor Johnston and yanked him off to jail so
fast that he hardly knew how he got there, and long before he
regained his liberty Cohn had vanquished his opponent and
won his suit.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 151

CHAPTER XL

A Bleody Chapter — Murderers and Bandits Flee From San Luis Obispo —
The Rangers Capture the Whole Band After a Sharp Skirmish in
Bliss' Vineyard — A F*emale Fighter — All Taken to San Luis Obispo
and Hung — The Murder of Porter and Pursuit of Vergara — Stanley,
Banning and Winston— A Ride for Life— Hand to Hand Fight —
Vergara Escapes, Reaches Yuma and is Killed by the Guard — Don
Santiago Arguello — Major Heintzelrnan.

chapter is to be a bloody one. Contrary to th
natural instincts of the chronicler, the truth of his-
tory demands that once more he is to draw the
attention of the gentle and refined reader from ludicrous legal
exploits of pioneer lawyers, to a bloody relation of murder,
rapine, treachery, midnight robbery and assassinations most
bloody.

In September, 1853, the country in the southern mines
became too hot for many of the bad characters who had
operated under the famous Joaquin, and small bands would
fly from the central organization and drift southward, signal-
izing their passage by deeds of blood and pillage, and woe be
to the unfortunate gringo who fell in their way. Cattle buyers
on their way south in parties of one, two or more, were
invariably met and murdered by these fleeing bandits. One
party of seven, including one woman, whose name I knew,
but forget, murdered a party of Americans somewhere not far
above San Luis Obispo, after which they halted long enough
in the town to dispose of some of the effects of the murdered
party and then continued their march southward. But few
Americans then resided in San Luis Obispo, and the Sheriff

152 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

feeling too weak for successful pursuit took passage on the
steamer bound south, landed at San Pedro and arrived in
Los Angeles late on a Saturday evening, and at once made
known the object of his visit to Captain Hope, of the Rangers,
whose name and the fame of whose company had become a
household word with all the American settlers in the counties
south of Monterey, and a like terror to the bandits. Detec-
tives (and we had detectives, and money with which to pay
them) were sent out to inquire if suck a party had as yet
made its appearance in the city, and at noon on Sunday it
was ascertained beyond a doubt that the identical party was
then encamped under the sombre shades of a great willow
hedge in the rear of Mr. Rowland's (now Bliss') vineyard.
That they were on the qui vive was a matter of certainty, for,
said the informer, "The horses are all saddled, and the men
booted and spurred." Our captain accordingly made his
dispositions to successfully bag his game.

The first move was to send a party by way of Old Aliso
street to Boyle Heights, there to lay in wait, anticipating that
if the party escaped from the vineyard they would flee in that
direction. Smaller parties were then sent down San Pedro
street and came up in the rear of the villains, and were to be
given sufficient time to get into position before the main move
was made directly from the barracks to the robbei camp, under-
the captain himself. At the appointed time the captain moved
quietly down Alameda street and into Rowland's vineyard, and
by the time we had well passed the house we heard the clatter
of fleeing horsemen through the cornfield, inside the willow
hedge. We had started the game, and one long, blast of the
bugle notified the watchers on' Boyle Heights and the parties
in waiting on the south to look out for the enemy, and the pur-
suit commenced. Did the reader ever engage in a cavalry skir-
mish in a cornfield ? If not, he has failed to participate in one
of the most exciting pleasures that it is possible to conceive ;

REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER. 153'

as the girls say about dancing, " it is perfectly splendid." In
a few moments the pop, pop, pop, of the revolver, the answer-
ing yell and hurrah of the intercepting Rangers, the defiant
carajo of the robbers, and the crashing of the breaking corn-
stalks, admonished the captain that the game had become
interesting, and in a moment he was among them. In less
than five minutes you could hear the pop of the revolver, the
yell and carajo, in every direction for a half mile or more away.
The thieves having broken and scattered, nothing could be
seen. The corn, the hedges, the vineyard and trees, would oc-
casionally and momentarily reveal a flying and pursuing horse-
man. The Rangers separated, each bent on securing his man,
and the chase became intensely exciting. More corn was
trampled down, more grapes destroyed, in the skirmish and
pursuit, the writer ventures to say, than were ever paid for.
By sunset the Ranger company had reported back to head-
quarters, and the whole party of robbers, horses, bag and!
baggage, were our prisoners, and were duly placed under guard,
including as pretty a little brunette woman as ever excited the
lustful desires of a Mormon missionary, and, strange to say y
the latter was the last to surrender, used her revolver like a
trooper, and was the only one that escaped to Boyle Eights,,
which she did, and fell unexpectedly into the arms of the dis-
appointed Rangers who were there in anxious waiting. The 1
seven who appeared at San Luis Obispo had increased to ten,,
not counting the womau.

On Monday morning rumors of lynching began to circulate,,
and by noon it became quite evident that unless the robbers were
protected by the Rangers their doom was certain. The United
States District Attorney, however, went among the lynchers,
and represented to them that the people of San Luis Obispo
had the best right to administer justice in this instance, and it
* would not be neighborly courtesy for us to intervene in so deli-
cate a matter, and that "it was not our hang," and Captain

154 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Hope'informed them that the Rangers would deliver the prison-
ers to the Sheriff of San Luis Ohispo on board the up-bound
steamer, and would furnish him a guard, if necessary, on the
passage up. On this emphatic assurance the lynchers subsided,
the prisoners, including the amorous-looking little brunette,
were safely delivered on board Haley's little steamer, were so
securely ironed as to obviate the necessity for a guard, and
arrived at the landing of San Luis Obispo. The town being
seven miles from the landing, the Sheriff sent out for a guard
to safely escort his prisoners to town, and the steamer waited.
Haley was the most accommodating captain that ever ran on
this coast, and somewhat more will be said in due time of this
gallant old salt, who has so gracefully converted his old marine
charts into legal parchment.

With the least possible delay, a detachment of citizens came
down to assist in safely landing the chained bandits, and then
safely escorted them to the first tree that presented itself on
the bleak, treeless plain, and in the most gentle but positive
manner possible proceeded to string up the whole party, includ-
ing that game little vixen aforesaid — that frail, gentle looking
brunette — and so endeth the first act in this bloody chapter.

About the same time an American cattle buyer named
Porter, while coming from the Dominguez ranch to the city,
was murdered and robbed in the outskirts, on Alameda street,
by a man who had accompanied him in the capacity of servant
and interpreter. The writer, on his way from San Pedro to
Los Angeles, was informed at the Dominguez place that the
American and his servant had just left for the city, and rode
hard to come up with them, for the sake of company, but took
the road that came in by way of San Pedro street. Dr. Wilson
Jones, riding in from the Lugo's at about an hour before sun-
down, came on the murdered man, dead and bleeding, in the
middle of the road, and rode rapidly to town to give the alarm.
Ranger parties were at once sent out in all directions, although

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 155

it seemed most certain that the assassin would go toward San
Diego. Accordingly a well -mounted party, under Lieutenant
Stanley, took the road in that direction. Stanley always was a
hard rider, and I presume that, notwithstanding the silver
threads of time that now besprinkle the head of the gallant old
Ranger, denoting the approach of an honorable old age,
Stanley, if called on by duty or necessity, could make the same
ride again. Phineas Banning, always ready to ride with the
Bangers as well as to supply them with means, and Dr. Win-
ston, then more of a light weight than at present, were of the
party, and I believe the two Marshall boys were also along.
The party rode all night, and ate a hasty breakfast at San
Juan Capistrano, where they learned that the fugitive mur-
derer was only a half hour ahead of them when they entered
the little mission town. In the meantime it had been ascer-
tained in the city that the murderer was one Manuel Vergara,
a most notorious up-country assassin and robber, who had in
some way ingratiated himself into the confidence of Mr. Porter,
and in riding into town as above described had, from behind,
shot him through the head, and robbed him of a considerable
amount that he carried with him to pay on any purchases of
cattle he might make. Lieutenant Stanley, who had intended

* f

procuring fresh horses, at once mounted his men, and driv-
ing their spurs in the bleeding flanks of their highly-groomed
and well-fed, choice mustangs, without the loss of a minute
dashed out of the village in hot and eager pursuit.

The fugitive was now an hour ahead of his pursuers, and the
great fear of the Rangers was that he would procure a fresh
horse, and gain this great advantage, otherwise they felt confi-
dent in their ability to overtake him. The Rangers had the
best horses the country afforded ; they were well-fed, groomed
and exercised every day, and were in good keeping to be pushed
to the utmost endurance of a California mustang, and it is con-
ceded that a well-kept California horse will endure the most

156 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

incredibly hard rides. The Rangers pushed on, and as they
came in sight of the Mission of San Luis Key they were glad-
dened by the sight of a horseman riding rapidly away. Then
commenced the race for life. The fugitive was a'mile ahead of
Stanley's party, and, finding himself pursued, made every effort
to gain on his pursuers. But the Rangers gained on him ;
every mile reduced the distance, and five miles from the Mis-
sion the Rangers, sometimes one ahead, sometimes another,
commenced to fire on him with their revolvers, and at every
shot the desperate scoundrel would howl back his defiant
carajo, and so the chase continued for another five miles, when
one by one the Rangers' horses commenced dropping behind,
and the murderer's horse seemed as fresh as ever. The dis-
tance passed over in that flight and pursuit was full one hun-
dred miles, and the writer would shrink from the relation of
such a personal exploit, but not being of that party he declares
the truth of what he writes. One Ranger's horse, however,
continued to gain on the fugitive, and soon the two were far
ahead of the other Rangers. Whether it was Stanley or one of
the Marshall boys, or Banning, who continued to gain on the
fleeing murderer, the writer^ is not sure, but is under the im-
pression that it was Green Marshall. Finally the pursuing
Ranger came so close up'to the pursued, that he turned in his
saddle and commenced to fire back at the Ranger. And thus
the race continued until both had fired their last shot without
effect. And let the reader be informed that men so blown and
excited, so worn out and unsteady, are apt, under such circum-
stances, to shoot wide of the mark. The Ranger continued to
gain on the fugitive until the two were brought side by side,
and commenced striking at each other with their empty revol-
vers. Their horses were staggering and reeling, and about to
fall exhausted on the plain.

The Ranger, out of breath, demanded the surrender of the
fugitive, who, with glaring eyeballs and bated breath, hissed

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 157

defiance through his closely set teeth. At last the Ranger
seized the rein of the fugitive's bridle, and while holding on with
one hand he tried to beat him down with his revolver in the
other. Vergara was a full match for his antagonist, and suc-
ceeded in drawing his bowie, and in making his first cut at the
Ranger cut his own bridle rein, which freeing his horse from
the hold of the Ranger, who in the conflict had dropped his
own rein, the two became in a moment separated. Ver-
gara drove his spurs into his horse and he shot ahead like a
bomb-shell, the Ranger's horse veered off to one side, and in a
harsh endeavor to bring him up, he reeled, fell and lay
exhausted on the plain. Vergara, with a triumphant shout,
pressed forward, and when the fagged out Rangers, who had
been left behind, came up, the fugitive murderer had passed
out of sight and escaped. Being unable to procure fresh
horses for the pursuit the disappointed Rangers, utterly fagged
out, exhausted, on foot, leading and urging on their broken
steeds, managed to reach San Diego and laid the matter of
their pursuit before that sterling old patriot, Don Santiago
Arguello, who procured an Indian and paid him a large sum
to carry a dispatch to the commanding officer at Yuma, and to
double the amount if he should reach there ahead of Vergara,
surmising correctly that the fugitive would make his way to
that place. Procuring a fresh horse Vergara pushed on to
Fort Yuma, where he camped on the edge of the river, just
below the ferry. Major Heintzelman, who commanded at
Yuma, had in the meantime received Don Santiago's dispatch,
the Indian having successfully accomplished his mission, sent a
Sergeant and file of soldiers down to bring the suspicious look-
ing Mexican to headquarters. Vergara refused to go, drew his
revolver on the Sergeant, and was shot dead by the soldiers.

158 RKMINTSCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XII.

The Murtlcr of Jack Whaling — An Array of Fair and Frail" Sisters— More-
no's Band— Robbery of Lelong's House — Moreno Kills His Comrades
for Blood Money — Capture of Moreno — The Whole City on Guard — Solo-
mon Lazard's Bravery — Mayor Nichol's Message to the Council — All is
Mystery.

the Rangers were yet in pursuit of Vergara,
old Jack Whaling, a brave, honest Irishman who
had succeeded the Arkansas man as City Marshal,
was assassinated boldly and publicly, in open daylight, on a
corner of our most public street. His assassin, by name
Senati, wiped the blood of the victim from his knife, gave
expression to some fierce maledictions against the hated gringos,
quietly mounted his horse and rode away. The town was
thrown into an intense excitement, a meeting was held, a com-
mittee of safety was appointed, and it was resolved to purify
the city and banish all the bad characters. Then, after a
reconsideration of the subject in secret conclave by the com-
mittee, it was agreed that the step resolved upon would be
dangerous, for the reason that the bad characters were evidently
in the majority, and might turn out and banish the committee
and their backers. The Rangers were all out, and the utmost
alarm pervaded the civil part of the community. And now a
digression is proposed, and the reader — especially the mercantile
reader — is informed that the first commercial failure in Los
Angeles was that of a Mexican merchant, Atanacio Moreno,
who failed about August, '53, and not only disappeared from
commercial circles, but also from the city. Moreno was a tall,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 159

straight, fine appearing white man, belonged to the best blood
of Sonora, and up to the time of his disappearance stood well
in society, and was highly respected. Every few days after the
murder of Whaling, a robbery, or a murder, or some other
outrage would be reported from some part of the county. The
Rangers were kept busy but failed to make any important
discoveries or captures. Sometimes they would be sent to the
Soledad Canon, or the Santa Clara Valley ; sometimes to San
Juan Capistrano and around the country generally, following
the Will-o'-the-wisp of some false alarm without any important
result. In the meantime, news came of the killing of Joaquin,
and the dispersal of his band in Monterey county, and that the
frightened bandits were making their way southward. The
excitement and alarm was fearful, the city was actually in a
state of seige, business was at a standstill, and so October
passed and November set in.

And now for another digression. In the month of Novem-
ber the steamer brought a small army of fair and frail sisters
from San Francisco, the pioneers of the foreign element in the
propagation of the social evil in our'angelic and highly refined
civilization. "We had thieves and cut-throats of all nations
under the sun, but up to November, '53, the monde and the
demi-monde was represented by ladies to the manor born.
The frail pioneers established themselves in a large house on
Upper Main street, and made their debut by giving a grand
opening ball, to which they invited all the principal gam-
blers of the city, and on the night of the brilliant affair, when
dancing and drinking had grown to a fever heat, when mad
revelry had run riot, a loud knock demanded admittance to the
ball-room. On the door being opened a dozen Mexican
bandits, armed to the teeth, marched boldly into the room and
covered the astonished revelers with their revolvers and car-
bines. The leader was masked and spoke English. He
informed the gamblers that the house was surrounded by a

160 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

hundred armed men, and if they offered the least resistance
they would be murdered without mercy, but if they submitted
quietly they would be spared. The robbers, for such they
were, then went through and plundered the house, finding most
of the gambler's overcoats and revolvers in the adjoining wine-
room. After which they passed the gamblers out of the ball-
room into the wine-room, searching and robbing them one by
one until the last man was fleeced, when they proceeded to
search and rob the frail sisters, stripping them of their valuable
jewelry and money. They then bade the household " buenas
noches," mounted their horses and rode away.

The robbers betook themselves to the vineyard of a well-to-
do Frenchman, who dwelt in that old-fashioned adobe house
that now stands on the south side of New Aliso street, just be-
yond the venerable old Aliso tree, under the sombre shades of
which the thieves halted and dismounted, and one part of the
band holding the horses, the others entered the house, and
after binding the owner, proceeded to search the house for
money and valuables. By dint of rifling drawers and trunks,
and by threats, they succeeded in obtaining a considerable
amount of coin and valuable jewelry, among which was a valu-
able gold watch. They then perpetrated the last outrage on
the poor wife of the Frenchman, and being now near on to
daylight, they mounted and left the slumbering city.

The audacity of this exploit, the mysterious coming and de-
parture of a band so formidable, and handled with such mili-
tary discipline, the finesse and sang-froid with which they
robbed the gamblers, who greatly magnified their number and
formidable appearance, whence they came and whither they
went, the dark mystery surrounding the adventure, led one to
inquire of another, " Well, what next ? " Alarm was changed
into consternation, and general gloom and terror pervaded the
gringo part of the population, especially those who owned stores
.and merchandise. The writer uses the- convenient phrase

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 161

"gringo" to signify the whole population except the Spaniards.
The gringos at once assumed a bellicose attitude. All citizens
were under arms. The Rangers were constantly in the saddle,
and well does the writer remember the warlike appearance of
Mayor Nichols and Solomon Lazard, as on a stormy night the
two heroes, muffled in storm and rain-protecting blankets,
weighed down with side-arms, and each with a double-barreled
shot-gun carried at a " secure arms " to protect them from the
pelting rain, marching to their respective stations on the hills
west of the city to do picket duty ; and how a cordon of armed
citizens guarded every approach to the angelic stronghold ; how
the heroic and vigilant Lazard shot a brave old bull, who came
lost and straggling into town on that eventful night ; how the
Rangers, in detachments, went into the country on the same
rainy night ; and how, to the utter surprise of the whole city,
especially the Spanish part of the population, the robbers en-
tered the city, raided Sonora, sacked several Spanish houses,
and carried oft' forcibly several girls. Whence they came and
whither they went was veiled in the mists of mystery.

When Mayor Nichols was on his picket post the City
Council sent the Marshal to bring him to the council rooms,
where they were discussing measures of general defense and
required his counsel and advice. "I will send them a mes-
sage," said the Mayor, " and will send it verbally. Tell the
honorables that the most proper measures for the defense of
this city, would be for them to join the Rangers as volunteers
or shoulder a shotgun and close the municipal shop for the
present."

This raid on Sonora occurred about a week after the foray
made on the gamblers and Frenchman. The angels became
nervous, excited, feverish and impatient ; a spirit of disap-
pointment fell upon the Ranger company, constantly kept going
on false information, always to be disappointed. They would

occasionally jump an armed horseman who was so wary and
11

162 REMINISCENCES OF A HANGER

skillful in his manoeuvers that not a single capture was made.
That a formidable band of robbers were within easy striking
distance of the city was a conceded fact. Where they were,
none could tell. Wild and magnified rumors and reports
of murders here, robberies and outrages there, were spread,
with still wilder rumors of a Mexican invasion and expulsion
of the gringos, all of which time the bandits were encamped
within ten miles of the city.

How the spirit of cupidity gave birth to dark and bloody
treason, and how the leaders of the robber band were murdered
in cold blood, will now be in order.

When Senati murdered the Marshal, the Sheriff offered a
reward of $1,500 for his arrest and delivery, dead or alive.
Two months had elapsed and no account of the fugitive
assassin. One rainy morning in December, when the excite-
ment raged fearfully and anxiety became unbearable, the news
spread like wildfire that the jail yard was full of dead robbers,
among whom was Senati. A general rush was made for the
jail, where in the yard in front of the jail door was found a
Mexican cart, with the gory corpses of five bandits lying piled
one on top of another, stiff and stark, exposed to the driving
rain and presenting all of the horrible contortions in form and
feature of men who died in fear and agony. An Indian boy
drove the cart to town, arriving between midnight and day-
light. The cart was guarded and escorted by a solitary horse-
man, and that horseman was Atanacio Moreno, the broken
merchant ; and this is the report he made to the Sheriff. He
said that about a month previous he was taken prisoner by the
bandits, who, supposing he had means, demanded a ransom,
kept him a close prisoner, and threatened to shoot him unless
the ransom was paid ; that he watched and waited for an
opportunity to escape ; that Luis Vulvia, who had been
Joaquin's Lieutenant, was Captain of the band, and Senati
was Lieutenant. Moreno further said that his capture was

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 163

subsequent to Senati's assassination of the Marshal, and he
knew of the price set on his head by the Sheriff, and in sheer
desperation he determined not only to escape, but to carry
Senati's head with him as a trophy. With this determination
he watched and waited for a favorable opportunity, which
never came. Growing impatient and still more desperate, the
band having gone on a foray and he being left alone with
Senati and two guards, by stratagem he succeeded in obtaining
possession of their arms, and killed, first Senati, then the two
others. That the Captain, Vulvia, at this critical juncture
unexpectedly returned to camp, and by a stroke of good man-
agement was also slaughtered, with his attendant, by the brave
Moreno. This all occurred in one of the caiions in the rear of
the Brea Rancho, and after his brilliant exploit the freed and
exultant Moreno accidentally encountered the Indian boy with
the ox cart, pressed him into service, drove to the robber camp
in the canon, loaded on the slaughtered bandits, drove to town
as above stated, and now demanded the $1,500 from the
Sheriff in conformity with his offer. Moreno was a hero.

In less than two hours the Sheriff had raised the money and
paid it over. The town took a long breath of relief. The great
agony was over, business began to resume its sway, and the
excitement somewhat abated. About a week or two thereafter,
Charlie Ducommun came, out of breath, through the back way
into the drug store, at the corner of Commercial and Los Ange-
les streets, where he found Captain Hope and two Rangers.
Hope understood that some one was robbing Charlie's crib, and
biding him return quietly by the way he came, Hope, with his
two Rangers, hastily proceeded up Commercial street. A horse
was seen standing in front of Charlie's shop with the rope lead-
ing inside, which showed that a man was inside holding the
rope. Arriving at the door, the man inside went for his
revolver, but before he could draw he was seized, and after a
desperate resistance was overpowered, and, to the surprise

164 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

of all, he proved to be the hero Moreno. Then Ducommon
explained that the prisoner offered to pawn the valuable gold
watch stolen from the house of the Frenchman before referred
to; that he at once recognized the watch, and pretending to go
into his back room for money, had ran to the drug store and
given information. Moreno was indicted, tried, convicted and
sentenced to fourteen years in the penitentiary for the robbery
of the Frenchman's house, lie then confessed that he himself
had been the captain of the robber band, and that Vulvia and
Senati were his Lieutenants, that he was the commander of the
robbers when the*y went through the gamblers and frail dames,
and at the outrage at the Frenchman's ; that, tempted by
cupidity he had slain Senati, to effect which he sent the
band out on service, retaining Senati in camp with three pickets
posted on the mountain sides. The two being alone he killed
Senati with a rear thrust with a sabre, and to his surprise
Vulvia returned to camp and was treacherously shot down by
his captain. The three pickets hearing the shot in camp, came
in and were treacherously murdered in detail. The ox cart
was procured as above stated, and the dead robbers brought to
town. After being about a year in prison, Moreno and the
veteran San Francisco forger, old Captain Tuft, attempted to
gf-t up an insurrection, disgracefully failed, and were severely
punished. He was, after about four years' service, pardoned by
the Governor, and was taken to Sonora by his friends ; returned
again to Los Angeles ; recommenced his old tricks and was
again sent up, and again pardoned in 1867, which is the last
the writer knows of Moreno.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. ' 165

CHAPTER XIII.

The Post of Jurupa — Captain Lovell — Military Discipline — A Gay and
Festive Quartermaster — Smith — Attempted Robbery of Mrs. Iverson's
House at San Gabriel — Robber Camp at Ternescal— The Rangers,
Regulars and Mormon Contingent Make a Night March on Their
Camp — Escape — On to San Juan Capistrano — Juan Forster — Juan
Avila el Rico.

" Time at last sets all things even,"

SERE was but one military post within the limits of
Los Angeles county at the time referred to in the pre-
vious chapters, and the domain of Los Angeles was
then very great, including San Bernardino and the greater part
of Kern counties, as heretofore stated. The post of Jurupa
was established, I believe, in 1850, and was continued until
1857. Fort Tejon was not established until 1854. Jurupa,
being an infantry post, could lend little or no assistance in
breaking up the robber bands that so occupied the Ranger
company and kept them so constantly going. Captain
Lovell commanded at Jurupa — a sedate, methodical, sober
kind of an officer, who seemed perfectly content to sit in
his elegant quarters, issue orders to his little army of a dozen
or so of well-fed, clean-shaved, white-cottou-gloved, nicely-
dressed, lazy, fat fellows, who were seemingly happy and con-
tent on their $8 per month, while even a Digger Indian would
naturally expect to earn even more than that sum in a day in
the mines. They all, from Captain to Corporal, seemed re-
signed to a life of well-fed indolence.

Captain Lovell was sedate and sober, and comported him-
self with as much military decorum as Though on duty at

166 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the War Department, and under the immediate eye of his
illustrious commander, the lordly conqueror of the mighty
Aztec capital. Captain Lovell exacted from his subalterns the
utmost military punctilio, and ruled the military roost at
Jurupa with all the rigor of a martinet. Every military collar
at Jurupa must stand with the most mathematical upright-
ness ; every military button, every military brogan, and every
military tin cup, must be burnished daily in such brilliant
style, so as to serve, if so required, as a mirror or shaving-glass.
Quarters were daily inspected, and the whole camp subjected to
the most rigorous military police. Kitchen, mess pans and
camp kettles would receive the most critical attention from this
model commander, whose daily custom was to visit the military
kitchen and rub the kettles, plates and pans with his immacu-
late white handkerchief, and woe be to the delinquent cook if
the perfumed linen should be soiled or smutted by its contact
with his kitchen kit.

Lovell had one officer, however, whom he could in no way
manage. Military discipline was not the forte of this officer,
and although Lovell tried every means from commands to
court-martials, Smith (such was the Lieutenant's name) was
utterly incorrigible. Smith was so hard a nut that even
Lovell couldn't crack him. Smith would consent to the
wearing of a military jacket, but Mexican calzoneros, Mexican
buckskin leggings of the most approved style and finish, Mexi-
can jingling spurs with six-inch rowels, Mexican sash, Mexican
hat, Mexican horse, saddle and bridle, and a brilliant Mexican
blanket, a navy revolver belted to his side, and an elegant
bowie neatly sheathed in his Mexican bota, went to make up
the personal trappings of the gay, festive and roystering Quar-
termaster of Fort Jurupa, a boon companion of the gifted
Myron Norton. Smith, with all his fondness for gay Mexican
trappings, was also inordinately fond of Mexican women.
" Wine and women " didn't begin to express the festive char-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. -167

acter of this gay son of Mars, who would start from Jurupa at
sunrise and ride to Los Angeles, fifty miles, for breakfast, and
empty two military canteens of double-proof Mexican aguar-
diente on the way, and then drink two bottles of first-class
California wine at the breakfast table, which he was wont to
designate as an appetizer to prepare him for drinking with his
friends until dinner time, when he would do his principal
drinking. Smith's fondness for women got him into serious
difficulty with Lovell more than once, and one time in particu-
lar, he was restrained of his liberty and ordered to remain
within the limits of his own quarters. A court-martial could
not be convened and the District Commander, John B. Magru-
der, was appealed to by Lovell. The Colonel came to Jurupa
and made himself the guest of the bejugged Quartermaster for
about a week, during which time Magruder waived rank and
he and Smith made night melodious with their roysterings.
On taking his departure the District Commander released Smith
from durance, which was the last time Lovell attempted his
reformation.

Smith was very fond of the Rangers, and always, when
opportunity offered, would accompany them on their expeditions.
When he came to town he was the more than welcome guest of
the company, who would lavish all their generosity on both
master and horse, and the generosity of the Jurupa Quarter-
master to the Eangers was without limit. If there were any
extra rations, extra blankets, or other kinds of military stores
at the post, they would be hoarded with miserly care for
gratuitous distribution among the Rangers when opportunity
offered. Smith was the prince of good fellows and the son of a
Governor.

Smith entered the army as a private soldier during the war
with Mexico, and for personal gallantry, and not through
political influence, at the end of the war was promoted to a

168 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Lieutenancy in the 2nd Infantry. His father was Governor of
Virginia, and was known as "Extra Billy."

During the hot times described in the bloody chapter, thr
robbers made a raid on the Mission San Gabriel, and among
other outrages attempted the robbery of Mr. Iverson's house
were gallantly repulsed and driven away by Evert, a boy of
fourteen years. The robbers went toward the upper Santa Ana.
and " Don Julian del Chino" (Isaac Williams) sent a trust-
worthy Indian to inform Captain Hope that a large force were
in rendezvous at Temescal. Hope accordingly made his dispo-
sitions not to disperse, but to bag the thieves in their camp.
An express was accordingly sent to J urupa asking the assistance
and co-operation of Captain Lovell, as also that of the Mormon
authorities at San Bernardino, who were requested to rendez-
vous at Jurupa at night, with such auxilary force as they might
be able to furnish. Fort Jurupa was ten miles below San
Bernardino on the Santa Ana river, and the robbers, camp at
Temescal was only about twelve miles from Jurupa.

The Rangers arrived at the Fort at ten o'clock at night,
having left Los Angeles late in the afternoon, so as to make the
latter part of the march under cover of darkness, and not be
seen by the vigilant bandits. At the Fort we found the gallant
Smith in all his glory, with half the garrison mounted on wagon
mules, and ready to move. A. half hour later, Cliff, the Mor-
mon Sheriff, reported with a splendid company of mounted
Mormons, and at midnight, under the guidance of the Indians
sent by Colonel Williams, of Chino, we moved rapidly on the
robber ci'.mp. The night was clear and calm, the moon shone
brightly, and the burnished muskets of the soldiers, flashed
warning signals as they gleamed and glittored in the moon-
beams. The road was hard and rocky, the sharp clatter of our
well shod mustangs, and the heavy tread of the wagon mules,
assured us that only by a rapid and direct movement could we
expect to surprise the robbers.

REMINISCENCES OF A 'RANGER. 169

The camp was located in the valley just above the Temescal
hot springs. Entering the valley we went on a full charge up
the road, leaving Smith's mounted infantry, hut not Smith, far
in the rear, and turning a bend in the road just below the hot
springs, we came in sight of the burning camp fires. The
game had escaped. The bandits decamped, and when quiet
and silence had been restored, we could hear their retreating
clatter as they went up Cold water canon. Pursuit was
impossible at night, owing to the roughness of the mountain
and mountain gorge in which the robbers had taken refuge.
We accordingly made our camp, fed our mustangs from the
wallets of barley furnished by the provident Smith, arid while
some boiled coffee in their tin-cups, others, fatigued with the
more than sixty miles gallop, were soon quietly resting in the
arms of Morpheus. With a breakfast of coffee, Mexican
cheese and Jurupa hard tack, at daylight we took the trail of
the retreating bandits, and followed it up Coldwater canon,
sometimes in the bed of the stream, and sometimes clambering
along the brink of some frightful precipice. In a little while
Smith sent his infantry back to the fort, they being unable to
follow the difficult and dangerous trail. After an infinite
amount of scrambling, danger, and hard labor, we stood on the
very summit of the Temescal mountain, now by some called
Santiago mountain, and called by Captain Bonneville, nearly
fifty years before, San Juan mountain. The da> was clear and
beautiful, and we were repaid for our difficult ascent by the
same view as described by Bonneville, the original American
explorer, who said : " Standing on the summit of the San
Juan mountain, with my face towards the sea, I behold the
great Pacific ocean with its numerous islands spread out before
me, while to my left are the limitless plains of San Luis Key,
and to my right the great volcano and lava fields of San
Gabriel," all of which that Ranger- Mormon infantile army
beheld with pleasure (a sublime view, more than worth

170 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the journey and ascent), save and except the "volcano
and lava fields" described by the adventurous Captain
Bonneville — because there were none : Bonneville was mis-
taken. Besting a few minutes, we followed the trail along
the ridge, bearing to the east, for several miles, and then
descended to the plains, and by the time we were well out of
the caiions and foothills the sun had gently gone to rest, and
another beautiful moonlight night set in. Our poor mus-
tangs were jaded, still we pushed on, and reached San Juan
Capistrano late at night, and aroused Juan Forster (" Bless his
old soul ! "), who inhabited the only inhabitable part of the old,
dilapidated, vermin-infested, tumbling-down Mission buildings
that Truman, in his " Semi-Tropical California," gets so enthu-
siastic over. When speaking of the Mission and Juan Forster,
he says "Bless his old soul," meaning Juan. Juan Forster
was not blessed by that Ranger-Mormon expedition on that oc-
casion ; neither did Smith " bless his old soul," as the sequel
will show.

We roused Don Juan up. He had no knowledge or infor-
mation as to thieves. He guided us into an old open court-
yard, with old, broken-down corridors, dusty, dirty, brick
floors, that had been inhabited by hungry hogs and mangy curs
since Don Pio had laid his despoiling hand on the doomed
Mission. We were worn out, hungry and sleepy ; still, having
a little barley, we tied and fed our worn-out mustangs, spread
our blankets, and were soon sound asleep, regardless of the
fleas, tarantulas, lizards, or any other kind of vermin.

We slept, with what degree of comfort I will not pretend to
say ; nevertheless, we slept until about four o'clock in the
morning, when it commenced a cold, deluging, driving Novem-
ber rain, and in a lit^e while we were all on our feet, shivering
with cold and drenched with water. What with our fatigue and
want of sleep, we had lain under our blankets until half
drowned and frozen, and when daylight came we presented a

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 171

pitiable spectacle — our poor mustangs, drawn up, hungry and
half-frozen, our blankets soaked and muddy, and the rickety
old roof above us pouring down deluges of water. Our Captain
said : " Don Juan will be out presently, and will furnish us
with better quarters, and whatever there may be of good cheer
in the Mission, Don Juan will supply." (Bless his old soul !)
Capt. Hope didn't say that, but doubtless, at the time, he
meant it.

Time wore apace, but Don Juan failed to put in an appear-
ance. We were hungry, we were wet, cold and chill. We
tried to saddle our horses, but our fingers were so benumbed
that we could scarcely use them. The poor horses refused to
move, but would herd and huddle under the lee side of the wall
for protection against the driving blast. Finally, our Captain'
lost faith even in the proverbial hospitality of an old English
salt, and detailed a foraging party which, in the course of an-
hour, reported back with a sack of barley, an armful of jerked
beef, and some dry willow poles ruthlessly torn from one of Don
Juan's corrals, ("bless his soul.") We still had some coffee-
and we had our tin cups, and after many failures we succeeded
in starting a fire, and having an abundant supply of water, we-
went to boiling coffee, fed our horses on barley, masticated
jerked beef, and anathematized the soul of Juan Forster, who-
was still hibernating in his own hole. Hot coffee is a great
restorer of circulation, and in a little while Smith and Cliff and
one or two Rangers sallied forth in search of adventure, while
the others continued to brew and drink coffee. The day wore
on, mid-day passed, the storm increased in violence and Don
Juan Forster hybernated, the Smith-Cliff party returned with a
goodly supply of aguardiente in canteens. We held a council
of war, some suggested calling Juan Forster out and demand-
ing shelter, which he could have afforded, others that we saddle
up and leave ; but where were we to go to, even if our horses
cou'd travel? Finally our -Captain said that he would not

172 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

force the hospitality of any one who by all moral obligation
should be more than willing to accord That Don Juan
Avila el Hico, who dwelt at the Aliso Rancho, only eight miles
on the Los Angeles road, had a large house and always kept an
abundant supply of forage and provender, and that we would
feed our mustangs on what was left of our barley, fortify our-
selves with what was left of our coffee, and light out, trusting
to a kind Providence and the hospitality of Juan Avila el Rico.
The rain still poured down in torrents, we kept the fire burning
in a kind of a sheltered corner. Smith was the first to saddle.
His horse, whom he called Vallo, was a noble animal, and
Smith was as devoted to him as was ever a Bedquin Arab to
his courser. Juan Forster's principal room fronted on the
Mission square, and had a large, unglazed, open, iron-barred
window, and Juan Forster had been seen sitting at that
window during the day. Smith had imbibed freely from his
canteen, and while we were still brewing coffee and getting
ready, Smith went out and took position in front of the large,
open window and bawled out at the top of his voice: "D — n
Juan Forster ! — d — n Juan Forster !" which he continued for
a full hour, vociferously roaring, "D — n Juan Forster," — and a
general d — in — g, by which time we emerged from the miserable
old corral, in the most dilapidated and wretched plight that it
is possible, to imagine, and in doleful procession filed out of
the Mission square, passing Juan's open window, and joining

in chorus with Smith's doleful refrain, "D n Juan

Forster."

As night set in we reached a haven of. rest, a place of full-
handed 'hospitality, where we were received with hearty,
Christian welcome, and although our party was large the
generosity of our noble host was yet larger, and the household
and Don Juan Avila, "bless his soul," went to work in good
earnest to ameliorate our wretched condition, and when the sun
burst forth in all its glory on the following morning, with well-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 173

fed mustangs, dry clothes and full stomachs, we saddled
and took up our line of march, the Mormons to San Bernar-
dino and the Rangers, accompanied by Smith, to Los Angeles.
The most of that Ranger-Mormon party have crossed over
the river. Juan Forster owns a princely estate — fifty miles of
the Pacific Coast. The generous Don Juan Avila stands in
the presence of Him who rewards all acts of generosity. The
gallant Smith left the army and joined the legions of the Lost
Cause, and I believe is yet living. He was brave, and more
than generous, and during the bloody days of fraternal strife I
could imagine seeing him leading where only the brave dare

follow, with his terrific battle-cry of "d n Juan

Forster."

"Time at last sets all things even." •

— Mazeppa.

J74 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XIV.

)E1 Vijco Lugo — His Vast Wealth and Great Generosity — His Death —
Bill, the Most Remarkable — Oinar Pacha — Louis Napoleon — U. S.
Grant — Knights Ferry— King Gumbo Jumbo and Kahmchamehu — A
Wonderful Saint — Chebang— Boom — My Compadre — Another Pacha
who Decimates a Turkish Regiment.

after my arrival at the Angels it was my good
fortune to visit the home ranch of possibly the most
, eminent Spaniard in California, Don Antonio Maria

IT 7

Lugo, by the Spaniards designated as "El viejo Lugo," by the
Americans as " Old man Lugo," the patriarch of the numer-
ous Lugo family, once so rich, powerful and influential. Don
Antonio Maria Lugo was eminent, not as a politician or as a
man of learning, but as a man of princely possessions, of
.great generosity and unblemished honor. To be a kinsman of
old man Lugo, in the remotest degree, was an assurance of an
ample start in lands and cattle with which to commence the
battle of life. To give the reader an idea of his great import-
ance, it was always said, and 1 believe truthfully, that old man
Lugo could ride from San Diego to Sonoma, a distance of seven
hundred miles, sleep every night on his own land, change
horses every day from his own herds, and eat beef slaughtered
from his own cattle on the entire journey. As a man of vast
possessions, of unbounded generosity and strict integrity, old
man Lugo was without a peer on the whole California coast.
•Originally a Spanish soldier, he obtained his discharge, settled
in this country, commenced the business of stock-raising, was
.-sober, industrious, managed his nerds successfully, extended his

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 175

landed interests, and founded a family whose present numbers
and various ramifications exceed any other family in the State.
"Los Cuerbos," where Compton is now situated, was the home
rancho of old man Lugo.

The old Pon, then ninety years old, was tall, straight and
supple, with a splendid military carriage, elastic step and
measured tread, which gave evident proof that the training re-
ceived in the King's army had made such lasting impression as
would endure to the end of his life. When mounted, the old
man was the beau-ideal of a horseman, and was the envy of all
the young Dons, who were emulous of acquiring the style and
carriage known and designated as "el cuerpo de Lugo" — the
carriage of the Lugo.

The old hero died, I believe, about 1860, at the age of 98
years, maintaining up to within a short time of his death all
of his physical vigor, and could ride on horseback, and, if
necessity required, could swing and throw the lasso with as
much vim and precision as the most expert youngster. His
mental faculties, of the highest order, were perfect and unim-
paired until the last minute. Old man Lugo died compara-
tively poor; but he left a heritage to his legion of descendants,
if .only understood and appreciated by them, worth more than
leagues of land or cattle on a thousand hills. He left a name
that stands honored, unsullied, and a bright example to be
imitated by generations to come, and any man or woman, high
or low, rich or poor, should feel proud to say, "I descended
from Don Antonio Maria Lugo, who lived a century — a long
life of usefulness — and died honored and wept by all, the
friend of mankind, and without an enemy."

Having disposed of old man Lugo, this timid historian
approaches the difficult task of trying to do justice to the most
remarkable character that he has ever known, and he believes
he has met and known in his thirty years of adventure many
curious and strange characters. Several times has this truth-

176 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

fill historian essayed this difficult and trying subject, and at
each time his pen refused its office and flanked off on some
lighter and easier task. Had Byron lived and known "Bill,"
he might have done justice to his many virtues; his thousand
peculiarities ; his eminent learning and great scientific attain-
ments ; his curious history, wonderful adventures, great knowl-
edge of the world and mankind ; his extensive travel ; his
great familiarity and personal acquaintance with noted persons,
including Louis Napoleon and Don Carlos, the Spanish pre-
tender ; the Royal Isabella and the Duke of Wellington ; King
Gumbo Jumbo, of Timbuctoo, and Kamehameha, King of the
Cannibal Islands. Lopez, the Cuban patriot and martyr, and
Omar Pacha, had been his school fellows. He was a partner
of Gen. Grant in Knight's Ferry, and mined with Jim Savage
on the Tuolumne ; was sailing master on the ship of the desert
on her last voyage of discovery on the mythical Widney sea,
and was chief architect of the construction of the Casa Grande
on the Gila; and in a private letter had told Raglan how to
capture the Malakoif, he having examined it professionally for
the Czar, with a view to strengthening its immense defences.
Having been a friend and partner of Grant when the now
great man enacted the role of Charon for the wandering Argo-
nauts, he became the confidential agent and correspondent of
the Government at Washington in the dark days of the rebel-
lion, and stood guard over the interests of the Union on the
Pacific Coast, and kept a weather eye on a Governor suspected
of disloyalty, and contributed greatly in preserving the integ-
rity of the Union and holding the City of the Angels to a
proper appreciation of the " best government," and preventing
the actual secession of California. There is no question that
Bill ran this angelic stronghold in the interests of the Union
during the dark days, and but for him the angels would have
gone in the interest of the Jeff. Davis Government ; and
during the four years of strife and turmoil, the four years that

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 177

tried men's souls, and filled the pockets of many, Bill was the
big dog of this boneyard. He was the boss of this burg ; he
ruled this angelic roost, and although he frequently begged the
Government for leave to go to the battle's front, he was found
to be the right man in the right place, and Grant and Lincoln
implored him to stay here and fight it out if it took forty
summers ; and stay here Bill did, and here he fought the great
battle for the Union ; and though the odds were ten to one
against him, still he won the great battle, and I hope his
friends and all who know him will accord him' the distinction,
as does the historian, of being the Boss Angel, or Sill the most
remarkable. Henceforth, however, the "chronicler will presume
on his more than quarter of a century of unbroken, uninterrupted
friendship and close intimacy, and designate this grand historical
character with the familiar cognomen of Bill.

This careful chronicler first met and made Bill's acquaint-
ance on his first visit to old man Lugo's. I was somewhat
impressed with his personal appearance on first sight. He was
of medium hight, of muscular but graceful figure, with a
complexion dark as a Spaniard, a head that in intellectual
balance and massiveness would have equaled that of the
immortal Webster, and would have made a perfect model for a
sculptor in giving cast to the head of a Roman Senator, a
countenance as soft and sweet as the most gentle woman, with
the most peculiar eye I ever beheld in mortal man, a sort of
philosophic, poetic, sleepy eye, that seemed so soft, quiet, kind,
benevolent and dreamy, but still so changeable. At the slight-
est insult or offence those poetic, dreamy eyes would change
and flash like the lighting of a match or the flashing of gun-
powder. His mouth was expressive of great firmness, with a
peculiar smile, so pleasing yet so dangerous to a thoughtless
woman. Bill, however, had a chivalrous feeling, amounting to
a kind of homage, an excessive gallantry, toward the fair sex,

otherwise he would have been a rake. That mouth of his was
12

178 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the kind of a mouth that always leads a weak woman to her
ruin. There was this much animal in Bill, and with the single
exception, and that flashing of the eye that indicated kinship
to the Bengal tiger, he was all intellectual. He was a scientist
and a philosopher of the true school of philosophy.

As said before, I was somewhat astonished at Bill's peculiar
physical and intellectual appearance, supposing him to be a
Spaniard, but when he spoke in the most elegant and gram-
matical English, and in a manner and tone of voice that would
have been the envy of the most cultivated courtier, or diplomat,
my surprise bordered on curiosity, and immediately on taking
our departure I inquired of my companion about him and who
he was. The only information he could afford me was that he
was " old man Lugo's friend, general manager, interpreter and
confidential adviser ; that there was an air of mystery sur-
rounding the gentleman, that he was polite, amiable and genial,
but whence he came, who he was, his nationality, antecedents,
former history, et cetera, he kept to himself." His name was
English, though surely he was not an Englishman, neither did
he resemble an American. He spoke the Spanish language as
spoken in Madrid, as also the French, with fluency and pure
Parisian accent ; still he was evidently neither English, Ameri-
can, Spanish or French, so the question presented itself to my
mind, who and what is he ? Broach any scientific subject, and
he would show himself to be master of it ; any matter of his-
tory was as much at his fingers' end as though he himself had
made it to order ; chemistry seemed to be Bill's favorite
science, and he applied it to everything, from making tortillas,
cooking beans and making coffee, to the making of first-class
cognac brandy out of the most villainous Mexican aguardiente,
and by the most simple process of distillation he would convert
the crude asphaltum, with which our streets are paved, into
pure and refined camphene ; and thereby hangs a tale.

It is known that asphaltum exists in inexhaustible quan-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 179

titles in Los Angeles County, and was always extensively used
in roofing houses and paving streets. Now Bill's scientific
knowledge pointed the way to boundless wealth to himself
and to Los Angeles County in converting the unlimited supply
into pure camphene ; and he would revolutionize the camphene
trade, then so great. So he fitted up a laboratory in the old
building that has since been so altered and improved upon,
and is now known as the "Signoret Building." The main
floor of the two-story frame was occupied as a drug store,
while the upper story was used by an old gentleman mentioned
by our deceased centennial historian as having been a most
wonderful compadre, and of having been the padrino of more
children than any other man in California, if the reader knows
what that means, and his very pious and Christian old wife —
the couple being childless — as being a very eminent comadre.
Now, if the reader labors under the misfortune of being a
"gringo," and don't know the mearning of "cornpadre" and
" comadre," then it is the reader's misfortune and not his
fault, and the author will endeavor to throw some light on that
matter.

The old gentleman referred to as having been so eminent as
a compadre, lived to a ripe old age and went to his grave full of
honors and was generally lamented. I could never understand
how he bore up under the infliction of so many compadres.
This to the author has been a long prevailing mystery. I once
had a compadre who came near being my financial ruin. The
author became a compadre in San Francisco in early times.
To be a compadre is to stand as god-father for some one's child
at baptism, then you become compadre to both parents and
the father becomes your compadre and the mother becomes
your comadre. Now it came to pass that I was in a solid
financial situation at San Francisco, as aforesaid, and made
the acquaintance of a most elegant Peruvian Don, a near kins-
man and partisan of the great hero of Inca-land, the renowned

180 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Echinique. I was very proud of my aristocratic friend, and felt
a great elevation of dignity when promenading Montgomery
street with this, the only man I ever saw who knew how to wear
a Spanish cloak, and how to carry a cane, and who knew how
to gracefully give his cigar to a person to obtain a neighborly
light from, and when we, arm in arm, entered the parquette of
a theatre the eyes of the audience would be diverted from the
stage to gaze upon his magnificence, so thought I in my
youthful pride. It so happened that my friend was a married
man, and had a most interestingly languid, lisping, tiopical
beauty for a wife, and the high-born pair had a baby. One
day my friend informed me that their nina was to be baptized
and that I must stand as padrino to the child, and thereby
the friendship between us would be cemented — we would be
compadres. I at first demurred to the proposition, but the
honor was so great that I surrendered at . discretion and won
the distinction of being and having a compadre, as also a
comadre.

My compadre was a millionaire in his own country, but on
account of the great Echinique being temporarily under a
cloud, was an exile, and was living in a very modest way in San
Francisco. But he received a letter from Lima by the last
steamer, informing him that on the next departure of the Royal
Mail Steamship a thousand doubloons would be sent to his
private account, and ten thousand with which to proceed to
New York and purchase arms for his great kinsman in case
they could not be procured in San Francisco. All of this I
learned at the time he requested me to stand for the nina. The
time arrived and I was all excitement; I was about to Have for
a compadre a nephew of the great man at whose frown all Peru
trembled.

On the morning of the important day my friend delicately
hinted that a few presents to his wife, my soon to be comadre,
was expected on this occasion ; also some toys, a little silver

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 181

plate, or some trifles for the nifia. To save me the trouble he
would buy them, but of course I would have to pay for them.
I didn't wish to s?em mean, so I inquired about how much
coin would be necessary for the trifles, and he mentioned a sum
that seemed to me to be very large, .but, said he with a
Spanish shrug of the shoulders, "quo vale este," (a mere trifle).
Well, thought I, such honors don't fall to the lot of ordinary
gringos, and I handed over the cash. I next learned from my
soon to be comadre that I was expected to make a small
present to the priest, a silver service of some kind, and so grand
did I feel by this time that I would have bartered away my
birthright rather than to seem penurious in the eyes of such
• people, so away went another investment. At the hour set
the company met at my friend's residence on Telegraph Hill,
Lombard street. A grand dinner and confection was being
served. Costly wines in .large quantities were being brought
in, and I was duly informed that as a matter of honor the
padrino was obliged to foot the bill. By this time, however,
under the inspiration of wine I felt grander than any Spanish
or Peruvian grandee that ever spent his million a year, and a
hundred dollars seemed to me as small change, and away went
my capital.

The niiia was duly baptized, and I became a compadre; went
to my room about daylight, fell into a kind of a slumber and
dreamed that my grand Peruvian compadre had made me the
present of a fee-simple title to a great sugar plantation in Peru.
It was near noon when I awoke, and my aristocratic compadre
was at the door. Some little bill remained unpaid and I was
the only one who had the right to pay on such occasion — $40
would square the thing up. I soaked my head in a basin of
cold water, went down town with my compadre, handed over
the coin, felt so bad that I returned to my room and to bed.
Never more did I behold my only compadre. My comadre
ever after to me was a vision of the past; and the nifia, God

.182 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

only knows. A few days after ray accession to the honor of
being a compadre, I learned that the kinsman of the great
Echinique had gone to Stockton and opened a monte bank.

Bill's laboratory was in the back room of the drug store, and
most fortunately the room immediately over it was the old
lady's oratory (the comadre's), and was inhabited by San
Francisco, the greatest and most wonderful saint, possibly, that
ever took up his earthly residence in this City of Angels. This
eminent saint has performed, and still continues to perform,
many and wondrous miracles. San Francisco is to-day, at the
very time the author is reverently engaged in writing his praise,
performing miracles, occupies elegant quarters, and is minis-
tered to daily by the kind old widow of the . old departed com-
padre. The writer avers, asseverates and declares the truth to
be that San Francisco has performed, and still continues to
perform, miraculous cures, and is decorated from the top of his
saintly head to the tip end of his saintly big toe with testimo-
nials of his many and miraculous cures ; and if the reader
refuses to believe this most truthful writer, then let him verify
the truth of history, and pay a visit to this remarkable saint,
who is so famous in the City of Angels that he is as easy to
find as the Round House, or the famous Round House George.

If the reader should visit this renowned saint, possibly the
first thing that will attract his attention will be a beautiful
golden ornament, representing a woman's breast. Now, the
significance of that golden ornament is this : An Angelic lady
had a badly diseased breast, which medical science failed to
cure ; so the poor woman was recommended to try San Fran-
cisco. She accordingly went to a jeweler and had a golden
duplicate made of her well breast, and hung it up in the oratory
as an offering to San Francisco. The result was that almost
immediately her diseased breast resumed its former beauty, and
was perfectly healed. A Christian gentleman had a lung dis-
ease that was hurrying him to the grave. His physicians

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 183

informed him that their efforts in his behalf would be unavail-
ing — that he must die. He was recommended to try San
Francisco, so he had some expensive ornaments made, repre-
senting a pair of healthy lungs, hung them up as an offering to
that saintly practitioner, and in a twinkling his lungs were
healed. On two occasions the house in which old San Fran-
cisco hung up was nearly consumed by fire. Both times the
fire raged fearfully until it reached the part of the house occu-
pied 'by the most potent saint, when it mysteriously smouldered
and went out. Notwithstanding Bill was personally present
and directed a host of fire fiends against the consuming ele-
ment, the fire, as before stated, continued on its devouring
course until it came near San Francisco's elegant quarters,
where the good old lady was engaged in supplicating his inter-
cession, and right there it stopped.

These are only instances of thousands of most wonderful
cures effected by this most wonderful saint, and the subduing
of the raging conflagration on the two occasions referred to.
are only instances likewise of the potency for good of the
ancient Francisco.

The reader will soon be brought to understand why it was
fortunate that San Francisco was quartered in the room
directly over Bill's asphaltum camphene laboratory. It was a
hot day in September, 1854, that all the elegant angels of
leisure were kicking their heels in the cool piazza of the old
Montgomery, which was immediately in front of the house
wherein Bill was industriously engaged. in his laudable design
of benefitting mankind in general, and himself and his adopted
city in particular, when all at once chebang ! boom ! fire, flame,
window-glass, a shivered door, and a general bust up in Bill's
laboratory. It seemed as though the old frame house was
lifted two feet bodily off the ground, and came down with a
seeming great crash. The elegant angels kicking their heels,
as aforesaid, ran to the rescue, and, in a short time, under the

184 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

cool direction of Bill, who had stepped into the drug store
to divert his mind in the chemical concoction of a " Welling-
tonian cocktail," and was fortunately absent when the explosion
took place, the fire was subdued and the question of damage
was gone into generally, which proved to be quite heavy ; and
right here the point comes in. If Bill's works had not been
directly under San Francisco, that frail old house, then new,
would have been blown sky high. You know it would have
been entirely out of the order of things to have blown up a
saint of such great merit as San Francisco.

Bill was one of the coolest, yet one of the most determined of
all the desperadoes of the southern counties. It is to be under-
stood that Bill was not in any manner of speech a desperado,
though in all truth he always got away with the desperado by
whomever tackled. 1 will now proceed to relate a few indivi-
dual instances of Bill's successful encounters with the knights
of the trigger and blade. Once upon a time there was an
attempt to assassinate Judge Benjamin Hayes, now deceased,
one of our most eminent pioneer lawyers, which created quite
an excitement. Parties of gringos went out in all directions
(this was in 1851) to try to get a clue to the perpetrators of
the dastardly attempt, one party under the " most useful man,"
accompanied by one Pete Monroe, a discharged dragoon and
first-class desperado. The party brought up at old man Lugo's
and interviewed Bill, who was deemed to be insolent in his
demeanor to the inquisitive gringos, and was informed by Pete
that if not more respectful he (Pete) would dismount and slice
him with his sabre, which he carried at his side. Bill responded
by stepping inside and returning with old man Lugo's long,
straight Toledo blade, naked and in hand, and with one of his
sweetest smiles invited Pete to dismount and try his metal.
In a moment Pete was on the ground with his spurs and coat
thrown aside, and as a preliminary made his bright dragoon
blade describe a fiery circle as he derisively laughed at Bill and

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 185

made the "right and left moulinet." Pete advanced; Bill,
smilingly stood on his guard ; Pete made a tremendous " right
cut," intending to slice Bill's head from his shoulders ; Bill
turned his finger-nails down, slightly elevated his wrist, there
was a slight clanking of steel, and Pete's heavy blade glanced
off harmlessly, and Bill quietly remarked: "If you do that
again I will disjoint your right elbow." "You will, will you?"
said Pete coming back to a guard, "Now we'll see, damn you !"
and he brought his " right hand to his left shoulder" with his
gleaming blade at a perpendicular " edge to the left ;" Bill,
who stood on "guarde in carte," made a slight turn of the,
wrist, which brought him in " tierce," then as Pete launched
forth the full force of his muscular right arm, Bill gave a dex-
terous turn of his wrist, slightly raised his elbow, and Pete's
arm and blade fell, the sabre to the ground and his arm help-
lessly to his side. "Now," said Bill, "come in and let me fix
your elbow, it is only out of joint." "I'll give you a thousand
dollars if you will teach me that trick," said John Floyd Jones,
one of the party who sat quietly on his horse. " Where in the
name of all that's damnable did you learn that," said Pete,
looking at his bleeding elbow that Bill was now engaged on,
and demonstrating a skill in surgery not inferior to his dexterity
in swordsmanship. "Learn what," said Bill, "that was nothing,
I know you are a good swordsman 'of your school, but of my
school you are mere child's play. I could take the ramrod from
your carbine and disarm a half dozen such swordsmen all
attacking me at once. And now," said Bill, addressing himself
to John Floyd Jones, who was a well-bred gentleman: "If you
gentlemen will now dismount and apologize for the rudeness of
this buffoon, you will be more than welcome to the best we
have on this ranch." The invitation was good naturedly
accepted, the whole party turned their railery on the wounded
and crest-fallen Pete, complimented Bill, and gladly partook of
the hospitality of the Lugo family, and the polite and well-bred

186 BEMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Bill, who, like one of the knights of old would fight a man one
minute and minister to his wants the next.

Bill and Joaquin were chums before the eminent cut- throat's
outlawry, and Bill was suspected of over-intimate relations
with " Vicenta," Joaquin's favorite and pretty sister, who at
the time of the bloody career of her brother dwelt among us
terrestrial angels. A surveillance was constantly kept over
Vicenta, and necessarily at times fell upon my present hero,
whose knowledge of the secret operations of the robber chief
was not only suspected, but was known, believed, and since
confirmed. Still Bill's honor and chivalry was a safeguard to
Joaquin, that he must have had full faith in, for the reason
that developments subsequent to his death proved that Bill, if
so minded, could have surrendered the chief at many times, had
not Vicenta and honor protected him.

Mike Chevallier was a renowned hero of the Texas' revolution
and the Mexican war, was a graduate of the most high school
of desperadoes, and famous for his many exploits on the classic
shores of the Bonny Bravo. Of course Mike came to California
in the palmy days of gold dust, monte games, free fights and
revolver rule, and took a prominent position in the upper crust
of bowie-knife society. He never missed his man until he met
Billow!™ had been cutting up such extraordinary rustics with
the fighting fraternity that his fame extended from Calaveras
to San Diego, and Mike felt his prominence waning. Bill had
taken all the wind out of Mike's sails, who wrote to Bill from
Monterey that he " was coming to Los Angeles' to crop Bill's
wings, and to be prepared to give him such reception as his
great fame entitled him to." In due time Mike arrived, put
up at the Bella Union, and dropped a note requesting Bill
to meet him at Taos', in Nigger alley, at a certain hour, and to
be " heeled." Bill answered the note, and assured the gentle-
man who had done him so great an honor " that at the hour
designated he would be there, and would be heeled."

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 187

Accordingly, at about nine o'clock in the evening, Bill might
have been seen at one of the great gambling tables at Taos',
looking on and bucking an occasional slug, and manifesting the
most careless demeanor. Still those peculiar ' eyes were in all
parts of the great gambling-room. Bill had a Colt five-
shooter, which he carried in his sleeve — a most beautiful way
to carry a knife or revolver, so convenient-like, you know.
Reader, if you want to be sure of getting the draw on a man,
then learn to draw from the sleeve. Bill drew from the sleeve.
The quick eye of Bill soon descried Mike quietly approaching
with his right hand under his coat. Mike drew from the hip.
Mike's tactics were common to desperadoes, to approach Bill
unseen, and say, "Draw and defend yourself," and turn loose
on him. Bill went on carelessly bucking, with an eye all the
time on Mike. Just as Mike was going to say "Draw," Bill
faced about, and, covering him, said smilingly : " Mike, I've
got the draw on you. One movement, and you're a dead man."
"True as Gospel," said Mike, "you are the first man that ever
got the draw on Mike Chevallier. Shoot, or name your con-
ditions." "My conditions are," said Bill, "that you leave
town before daylight, never to return. Give me your word to
that effect, and you can go ; refuse it, and I will shoot you
dead." Mike made the promise, and Bill put up his pistol and
invited Mike to drink to future friendship. The two then
went off together and took several friendly drinks, and when
about to separate Bill said : " Mike, do you know the reason I
didn't kill you?" "No," said Mike. "Well, Mike," said
Bill, "you remember that I arn the Grand Master of the Mili-
tary Order of the Lone Star, and that after establishing that
Order in General Houston's army, after San Jacinto, that you
were one of the first initiated by me. Do you remember our
vow, and do you see now why it was I spared you ?" " Great
God, Colonel, am I to believe my own senses ; I now for the
first time recognize you," responded Mike. Bill now with

188 REMINISCENCES OF A HANGER.

great dignity of manner turned upon his heel, and Mike was
left alone to brood over his discomfiture.

The truth of this matter is that Bill had in his former
experience belonged to the Carbonari of Italy, and when he
entered the Texas Revolutionary army as Chief of Engineers
he translated the ritual of the Carbonari and made it appli-
cable to his new Order of the '•' Lone Star."

True to his knightly word, Mike saddled his horse and left
the slumbering angels before day, returned to Monterey
gloomily, fixed up his earthly affairs, willed his revolver and
bowie to Bill, and committed suicide by taking two ounces
of laudanum. Alas, poor Mike ! He for the first time in his
wild career mistook his man.

After an experience of years' duration, and after mature
reflection on this interesting question, this thoughtful writer
feels justified in advising the rising generation of would-be
desperadoes to learn to draw from the sleeve. It is a most
difficult and beautiful art, but when once master of it, you
always get the draw on your man. Young man, learn to draw
from the sleeve.

I became very intimate with Bill, even on short acquaint-
ance, and found him a most agreeable companion. He was a
great cook as well as a groat compounder of mysterious mix-
tures. When I say cook . I wish to be understood to mean
scientific cookery. Bill used to say, "No one can cook a
square meal unless he is familiar with the science of chemistry;
no person should be permitted to cook unless familiar with
this most useful of sciences." One time this very temperate
writer started to the Dominguez Ranch in company with
Myron Norton. I think maybe Jack Watson was also of the.
party. The trio were of the total abstinence persuasion, but
somehow or other when we halted, at Los Cuerbos, it was
discovered that we were well armed with first-class Mexican
aguardiente, which we used to wash the backs of our mustangs

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 189

when we removed the saddle cloth, a time-honored custom
among old Rangers. You will never gall your horse's back on
long rides if you will only carry some good aguardiente with you
and when you remove the saddle cloth, just pour about a gill of
the fiery liquid on the heated hide of your horse; good brandy or
whisky will do, but don't drink the brandy — if you do your
horse may suffer. Well, when the very abstemious trio halted
at old man Lugo's, that most interesting ceremony was gone
through with, and our horses were staked out, and we stopped
for dinner, and feasted on one of Bill's favorite dishes ta-wit :
" Soo Loo curry." Reader, did you ever eat curry ? If not,
did you ever eat the Mexican national dish, "carne con chili."
Now, if you ever ate " carne con chili" you need have no fear
of a future hell. "Carne con chili" is moderately cool in
comparison with Bill's "Soo Loo curry." Curry is hot and
when washed down with aguardiente it must be. if possible,
still hotter. We, however, used our aguardiente on our horse's
backs, otherwise we might have "combusted."

The point this non-scientific writer is coming to is the
" transmutation of liquids," which is only known to adepts in
chemistry like Bill. After "curry," without having curried
our mustangs, we continued our pilgrimage to Don Manuel
Dominguez', leaving two bottles of aguardiente with Bill, well
knowing that our heated mustangs would need some on their
backs on our proposed return on the morrow. The morrow
came, of course, and with the morrow came the three " sons of
temperance" to Los Cuerbos, and when Bill produced a
bottle of the aguardiente of the day before, we bathed the
heated hides of our horses with as superior an article of
old cognac as ever tempted the fidelity of a California voter
or a Los Angeles Councilman — all the bona fide result of
Bill's inimitable science.

At the time of which I write, Bill was about thirty years
old, judging from appearances ; but judging from his vast

190 „ REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

knowledge, great travels, marvelous campaigns and voyages,
Bill must have been at least three hundred and sixty-five. He
was born on the mighty Ganges, was the son of an officer of
high rank in the East Indian service, while his mother was said
to be the daughter of a powerful Begum, one of the leaders
in the bloody Sepoy rebellion. After passing through Eton,
Oxford, and graduating in some of the continental seats of
learning, and after protracted travels in the more civilized
portions of the world, our hero returned to his native jungle,
and in due course of time took an official station in the East
Indian service. The biographer confesses himself somewhat
befogged in placing Bill in command of a British war ship, or
the manner in which he attained to such high station, but
such is the truth of history. The writer also declares the truth
to be that the " Soo Loo" pirates had been harassing the
Indian Chinese merchantmen to such degree that Bill was
sent to chastise them, and what does the reader suppose my old
Ranger comrade did in that emergency ? To be frank, then,
and to the point, Bill converted that royal ship into a full
fledged pirate, he pulled down the royal cross and ran up the
piratical flag of Soo Loo, made common cause with that grand
and defiant horde of pirates, declared war against the world,
and became the terror of the Chinese Seas.

The result was as might have been expected. In less than
half a year a whole squadron of the Royal navy was hot after
him, and very soon our hero found that part of the world too
small for him, and so he steered for the Sandwich Islands,
where he intended to refit, victual and water his ship. No
sooner did he appear in Hawaiian waters than a full-rigged and
heavily armed British cruiser took up the chase, and Bill
headed his ship for the California coast, scuttled and burned
her off Cape Mendociuo, took to his boats, and became the
discoverer of Humboldt Bay, where he landed with what was
left of his crew, and being surfeited on adventures on the

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 191

mighty deep, boldly struck out on an exploration of the then
unknown interior. This was in 1842, and here cornes a most
astonishing assertion — that this pioneer party of fugitive
Britons, fleeing from the wrath of the enraged British Lion,
became the original discoverers of gold on the Trinity River.
We will not claim that Bill's fugitive sailors were the original
discoverers of gold in California, but, that they had all left the
Trinity gold mines with their purses well filled long before Sut-
ter's mill was even projected, and before the historical Marshall
had crossed the snowy mountains. This writer was one of the
pioneers of the Trinity mines, and it was well known and mar-
veled at, at the time, that " Sailor Bar" (no one knowing how
it got its name) had evidently been worked, and nearly worked
out. long before the pioneers of 1850 commenced their opera-
tions.

When the great allies declared war against the Northern
Colossus, Bill was on his way to San Francisco with a few
thousand of old man Lugo's fat cattle which he disposed of, and
when about embarking for San Pedro a letter was placed in
his hand bearing the monogram of the Horse Guards. Hastily
opening the missive he found it to be a letter from Lord
Raglan with a request to meet him in the Crimea, with the
assurance that it was all right with the Queen on account of
that little Soo Loo business.

The day following, Bill was on his way to New York by way
of Panama, having sent a statement of his account to old man
Lugo, retaining may be $ 15,000 or $20,000 with which to defray
his expenses to the seat of war. We will not follow him on his
journey, but we next find him at the Allies Headquarters in
the Crimea, where Raglan urges him to accept a position as
Chief of the Royal Sappers and Miners, and his old college
chum, Omar Pacha offers him the command of a regiment of
Turkish cavalry, which offer, after many apologies to his
•cousin Raglan, he accepts, and becomes a Pacha of Thre« Sails,

192 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

to be known thenceforth as " Gillermo Pacha." With much
ceremony my friend the Pacha was inducted into his com-
mand, and to his surprise, when putting them through the
drill for the first time, he found them insolent and insubordi-
nate. After dismissal he sent for the Adjutant and Sergeant-
Major to enquire why this was so, and was coolly informed by
them that this particular corps was the oldest in the Turkish
army, that it was once commanded by the Prophet himself,
and that it acknowledged no commander save the Sultan.
Said the Sergeant-Major: " When a commander is placed im-
mediately over us who don't suit, he never lives to see his second
battle."

Bill thought over this matter all night, and by morning had
come to the conclusion that his old friend Omar was playing a
joke, and made up his mind what to do. At the next drill he
ordered the regiment to parade dismounted, and when, they
were drawn up in line Bill took his position facing it, and
eighty paces to the front. He then ordered the Adjutant to
make a detail of one man from each company, to report under
the Sergeant-Major, all of which was done in a sluggish kind of
way that was indeed provoking. But after awhile the Sergeant-
Major reported his detail of ten men. Dressing them up
neatly, Bill drew his sabre and slapped off their ten heads,
ordered the Sergeant-Major to his post, and went on and put
the command through their drill in a greatly improved way
from the day previous.

The next day the same operation was repeated ; ten more
heads were cut off. The next day ten more, and on the fourth
day, just as the regiment came most beautifully into line, the
Commander-in-Chief, the great Omar, with his full staff, rode
up. Bill saluted him, and caused the regiment to present
arms. Omar inquired, "How do you like your regiment?"
" I am delighted with it," said Bill. " Do they obey orders
promptly ? " Omar again inquired. " Most beautifully,"

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 193

answered Bill. "Give me an example," said Omar. There was
a battery near by, with the guns loaded, and a sentry standing
by with a burning port fire. Bill motioned to a Captain on the
extreme right to approach. Then Bill called his First Lieu-
tenant in the same way, and the two saluted and stood before
their Colonel. "Captain," said Bill, "go and place your head
at the mouth of that cannon." He obeyed. "Lieutenant,
take that port fire and fire off that gun." The Lieutenant
obeyed, and the Turkish army lost one of its bravest captains.
Bill then saluted the Commander, and said, " You now see to
what discipline. I have reduced this refractory tribe, and I hope
your highness is satisfied, and will approve the desperate
remedy which was necessary to make them what they ought to
and will be while under my command — the most perfect corps
in the allied army." The great Omar did not only approve of
what Bill had done, but in addition thereto sent him as a
present three most beautiful horses belonging to his stud.

Does the reader now wonder at the seeming mystery sur-
rounding this curious character, as stated at the beginning of
this brief sketch of one whom this historian could write volumes
about.

I have given Bill somewhat of a fictitious character, but in
all truth and honesty he is one of our most honored and re-
spected citizens, and now stands at the very head of one of the
scientific professions, and one whom this old Ranger delights
to call his friend and to write about.

All 1 have written about this great cosmopolite is true, and
is vouched for on the veracity of this veracious writer, who
founds his veracity on Bill's own statements. And Bill is
truthful, more truthful than the average '49er, and why should
he not be ? Did he not first inhale the truth-inspiring air of
California seven years prior to the coming of -the Argonauts ?

13

194 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XV.

Attempted Assassination of Judge Hayes — Horses Stolen From San Ber-
nardino Ranch — The Lugos Pursue, Attack and Defeat the Indians,
and Massacre a Party of Americans — Adobe Houses— The Fandango —
Peons and Pelados— Cascarones- -The Dead Desperado.

12, 1851, late of a bright moonlight eve-
ning, standing alone at the door of his office, Main
jjjf street, where now is the Oriental, Benjamin Hayes
was shot at by some one within three feet, on horseback. The
ball, says the Star, "passed through the rim of his hat and
lodged in the wall on the opposite side of the room, perforating
in its progress the door, which is fully an inch in thickness.
The assassin (?) then instantly galloped off. A party of three,
including the Sheriff, J. R. Barton, tracked him about ten
miles to a house where they were received by five or six men on
horseback, who charged upon them, fired several shots, and
drove them from the ground. The Sheriff deemed it prudent
to return to the city. He did so, obtained a posse, went back
to the place of encounter, and made a search that proved
ineffectual. It has always been believed that this assault was
intended for another individual."

So writeth the "Centennial Historian," and hereby hangeth
a tale of more than ordinary interest, of bloody import. Not-
withstanding this chronicler is forced to take issue with his
respected and departed friend, the lamented historian aforesaid,
and maintain the' truth to be that Benjamin Hayes was the
very person intended to be assassinated on the occasion above
referred to in quotation, and the reason thereof to be that

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 195

Judge Hayes was then the legal luminary of the city and
county of the Angels, and was engaged in the prosecution of
two of the numerous Lugos, charged with murdering some
Americans in the Cajon Pass in San Bernardino county, and
it was possibly thought best by the friends of the accused to
end the prosecution by ending the Prosecuting Attorney,
hence the attempted assassination. Now the reader can easily
surmise why it was that the party of gringos under the " most
useful man" went to old man Lugo's, and their inquisitorial
intentions on that -visit and the very delicate, not to say
dangerous, position of Bill on that occasion, and his satisfac-
tory definition of his position in his successful encounter with
Pete Monroe, mentioned in the preceding chapter.

Sometime early in 1851, the Indians raided the San Bernar-
dino rancho, then the property of the Lugo family, a branch of
which occupied the ranch.

The successful raiders drove off a herd of gentle horses, and
went out through the Cajon Pass. Two of the Lugo's, with
half-a-dozen of their dependents, followed on the fresh trail of
the desert Indians, and in the Cajon they found some four or
five Americans, and one half-breed Cherokee Indian. The
Cherokee being the only one of the party who either spoke or
understood Spanish, in response to inquiries, informed the
Lugos that there were only three Indians engaged in driving
off the herd, and that they (the party) never suspected that
they were other than vaqueros legitimately engaged. The
Lugo party pressed on, overtook the raiders at the Point
of Rocks on the Mojave, and at once, and without counting
noses, charged them, and to their intense chagrin and astonish-
ment found the party to consist of some twenty warriors,
instead of three. . A fierce conflict ensued, hand to hand, in
which three of the Lugo party were killed, and several Indians
were made to kiss the desert sands. Fortunately the Lugos,
armed with Colt revolvers, achieved a splendid victory over the

196 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Indians and recovered the entire herd. On their triumphal
return with the gory scalps of their enemies dangling at their
saddle-bows, they found the same small party yet in the same
camp, when the chief Lugo demanded of the Cherokee why he
had deceived them about the number of the Indians. The
Cherokee replied that he was anxious to see them recover their
•stock, and was afraid to tell the truth, knowing that they
would be too cowardly to follow a party of Indians respectable
in numbers, This brought on words, which ended in the Lugo
shooting the Cherokee dead on the spot. -A short, sharp and
decisive conflict then ensued, which resulted in the Americans
being entirely wiped out, and hence the prosecution against
the Lugos and the attempted assassination of the District
Attorney, Benjamin Hayes. The Lugos were finally tried and
acquitted, the pioneer lawyer (Brent) who defended them
receiving, as the writer has been informed, $20,000 for his fee
— surely a fair legal starter in a small frontier town.

One or two more reminiscences of the bloody times of 1853,
and the reader will be drifted over into the more quiet times of
'54, when matters became somewhat more pacific, but not less
interesting.

Notwithstanding the then, unsettled state of society, and the
general insecurity of life in this angelic population, balls, fan-
dangos and festivities were the order of the day.

The gringo reader may not know the difference between a
ball and a fandango, and the writer will inform him thereon.
The ball, or in Spanish baile, means the same thing as in
English, a select gathering of invited guests for dancing and
general jollification and amusement, and in Spanish society is
even more exclusive than among the Americans. On the other
hand a fandango is open and free for all. Ladies of the higher
ranks of society never go to a fandango, and Dons of the upper
ton only go in a half-way clandestine manner. A fandango of
the olden time was a curious agglomeration of all the elements

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 197

of the population so promiscuously thrown together in this, at
that time, curious, quaint old town. Everybody then dressed
extravagantly fine. It was nothing to find a sefiorita of the
most humble walks in life arrayed in x al! the costly silks and
satins of China and India, resplendent with costly jewelry, and
to find one inexpensively clad was the exception, and always
elicited remarks at her expense. Gentlemen attending the fan-
dango were always expensively and elegantly dressed, and a
fandango was a brilliant but over-crowded show. All of
the old Spanish houses had one grand room or sola, flanked
by two other rooms, which made up the front of the houses.
Two large wings extending back, with rooms generally used as
dormitories, and a great high wall in the rear, forming an inte-
rior court or square, witli wide corridors or verandas on the
three sides, both outside and inside generally paved with brick
tiles, a good pine plank floor in the three front rooms, and if
not in the rear dormitories, they had brick tile floors, the same
as the floors of the veranda ; adobe walls, well whitewashed,
with chair-boards around the sala, good and substantial doors
and windows, with shutters generally painted green, as were
also the cornice and columns supporting the verandas, the
whole covered with .a flat roof, and now you have a description
of an old-style angel habitation. The ruins of many yet
remind us of the good old times. The happy days of joyous
revelry ; the gay baile; the noisy fandango and the hospitable
fiesta of the times when the Spanish Californian was so full-
handed and happy, that in his bountiful hospitality he gave
little heed to the "sore-foot or the rainy day," and reveling in
the happy present thought not of the future. Alas ! the
future is the present, and he has lived to see it with sorrow.

Sentimental writers speak of the "old mud hovels of the
Spanish regime." N"o greater libel was ever perpetrated on a
comfortable house than to call one of those old models of cool
comfoit, one of our old first-class adobes, a hovel. The writer

198 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

hereof, although no longer a man of war, but emphatically a
man of peace and of letters, is ready and willing to maintain, on
foot or on horseback, that one of our old respectable one-story
adobes of the olden time was the most comfortable house, one
of the most enjoyable homes, the most admirable piece of
rural architecture that ever reared itself from the sacred soil of
California.

This writer stands by the adobe house as the coolest house,
the warmest house, the cheapest house, and the most earth-
quake proof house (might as well try' to shake down a hay-
stack), and the best house for fandangos that ever existed in
this old city, of yore so famous for her fights and fandangos.
Nothing but an adobe house could have stood an old-fashioned
fandango. A modern earthquake is no comparison to an old-
fashioned California fandango, especially such as we had in
those good old times in this angelic city. Alas ! alas ! we will
never see the likes of them again. The old fashioned fandango
is a thing of the past. Reader let us go to a fandango in
1853. Before we start let us examine well our revolvers, oil
the cylinders, and see that the tubes are open, free from rust,
and well capped. We will dress as we please, only we must
dress expensively fine. We must be sure and wear a red
vicuna hat with a broad brim and a sugarloaf crown, a gold
cord wound twice around, and heavy tassels. We can either
wear a blue clawhammer with gilt buttons, or a modern black
frock, or an elegantly fitting blue jacket, with a little gold
embroidery, a red Mexican sash, sky blue pants and a gold
bullion stripe down the side will make up an outre fashionable
fandango costume, and the last being the Ranger uniform we
are in fine feather and ready for the fandango. To be elegant
we must still have a shining patent leather scabbard with
silver mountings for our revolvers. We are not, however,
required to wear the Ranger costume, still we must have the
vicuna hat and must not omit the gold cord and tassels, other-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 199

wise we may be regarded as gringos a and then we would fail to
enjoy ourselves, and if we dance it will have to be with some
old woman, whose jealous Don might give us a dig in the ribs
with his purial as we elbow our way through the dense
crowd in taking our departure. A gringo stood no sort of a
show at an old fashioned fandango.

We are now in front of the fandango house, where we elbow
our way through a dense crowd of Indians, peons and pelados,
the riff-raff, scruff and scum of our angel population, and
amid jibe and jeer we gain the corridor or veranda, where
we find rancheros on foot or on horseback, all drinking, those
dismounted, however, maintaining careful hold of the hair
ropes of their horses, never daring to tie them up, or the peons
and pelados in the rear will run them off and spout them for
aguardiente. After an infinite amount of crowding and squeez-
ing, we gain the door, inside of which we find a dozen or more
dismounted rancheros holding their hair ropes with their
horses' heads in near proximity without. As soon as discovered
by the dismounted rancheros, they at once open the way with
the polite salutation of "Pasan Vds. caballeros," (pass in,
gentlemen); for be it known, reader, that the California
ranchero was never rude. Even if he choked one with his lasso
he would be polite about it. Now we are in the grand fandango
room, and what do we see and hear ?

The fandango is in full blast. The musicians seated in one
corner of the room perform on the harp, guitar, violin and
flageolet, and make very good music for the initiated ; but to
the gringo, somewhat discordant, especially when broken in
upon with a horrible essay at vocalisra. The room is packed
to its utmost capacity, a waltz is going on, gaudily dressed
rancheros, fashionable and unfashionable gamblers, store clerks,
county officials and well-to-do merchants, with representatives
from all lands under the sun, except China. John never was
much on the dance (his foot and figure not being in accord with

200 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the light fantastic); Hindoostan was represented, however, in
the person of Abdul Krim Mullah, called by vulgar angels the
" Royal Bengal Tiger;" a brilliant array of Rangers, with quite
a sprinkling of Jews and one or two • young army officers,
went to make up the male part of the fandango, while the
female part of the house consisted of a brilliantly gaudy crowd
of seiioritas of various hues, ranging all the way from a beauti-
ful brunette to the regular black diamond (that is, while at
home); but the senoritas at the fandango were all on terms of
the most perfect equality as far as complexion went ; that is,
all were of pearly whiteness, in beautiful contrast with the jet
black brilliancy of their eyes and the raven color of their hair.

We pass through to the rear, but as we gain the door
with our vicunas deferentially doffed, crash comes something on
our heads, and we are covered head and shoulders with a
gilded covering of infinitessimally small pieces of gilt paper,
intermingled with pieces of colored egg shells. We turn and
see the retreating figures of a pair of mischievous-looking
coquettes, who have paid us the high compliment of breaking
cascarones over our heads.

A cascaron is an egg shell filled with gilt paper of all the
colors of the rainbow, cut as fine as scissors can cut it, and
then packed into the perforated egg shell, the open end of
which is then closed up with a piece of wax, and when beauti-
fully painted with variegated colors is ready for use at the
fandango. During the carnival this custom was universal, and
when a sefiorita broke a cascaron over a beau's head he, by all
the rules of gallantry, was bound to respond by breaking one
over her head, or maybe a dozen, which he usually did when
she was wildly whizzing in the giddy waltz.

With the fine cut glittering on our heads and shoulders, we
pass out of the grand sola into the open court and corridor
where we find an immense throng. On our right, in the
"rincon," we find a large table groaning under liquors and

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 201

confectionery free for all, because this is an old-time fandango
where the master paid the music and all other expenses,
including refreshments. No liquors were ever sold on such
occasions.

On our left a monte table is in full blast. Kancheros sur-
round the table and are intently engaged in tempting the fickle
goddess. We begin to enjoy ourselves, when all at once bang
goes a revolver inside the grand sola, and a commotion follows,.
and a rush is made into the open court. Then more shots,
with a profusion of oaths in English. In an hour or more
quiet reigns supreme. The feminine part of the fandango
have retired and the ranchero merrymakers, finding the row
to be one of gringo origin and to belong exclusively to the
gringos, mount their horses and quietly ride away, and then we
learn the following to be the facts : In the first place we had
a dead desperado, and this is the way lie came to his well-
merited end. Bush was a quiet young German. Nimmo was an
American, ordinarily a good fellow, but with the third glass
of aguardiente was ready to fight, kill and destroy the whole
human family, including his grandfather or any other man.
Bush had a sweetheart — a light, active, fascinating senorita —
one who laid claim to the proud distinction of being the belle of
the ball room. This gay bird of brilliant plumage had honored
Bush with a bombardment of cascarones. Bush responded by
breaking his last one on her head, and as she sailed past where
he was a looker-on, he turned and begged the loan of one from
the gentlemen present. Nimmo handed him one all painted
and pretty, and as his angel swept by as on the wings of the
wind, or on the wings of love, he gave her another well-directed
shot, and Oh ! horror of horrors ! he had broken a rotten egg on
the head of the one above all others he wished to honor, com-
pliment and please. He had committed an outrage which^ he
could never atone. Hence the shot, commotion, stampede and
dead desperado. Bush had shot Nimmo dead in his tracks.

202 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

The musicians have been paid and have departed ; a small
coterie gather around the gory desperado as he lays stark and
bleeding in the place he fell ; his slayer has gone home to brood
over his mishap and his first murder. Was it the last ? Quien
sdbe ?

We have seen an old fashioned fandango, and feel satisfied
and surfeited on fandangoes — until the next, and then we are
sure to go again.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 203

CHAPTER XVI.

Alex. Bell — His Adventures — Leads a Filibustering Expedition to Equador —
Gen.Flores — Eminent Fighting- Men — Walker's Expedition to Lower
California— A .Mexican Hercules— Battle of La Grulla— The Twin
Republics — The Old Flag Abolished — The Government Starts tor
Sooora — Hercules Heads It Off— Major McKinstry, U. S. A.

AN early chapter of these reminiscences mention
was made of Aleck Bell, with a promise of more anon
concerning that remarkable character, who, next to my
favorite hero "Bill/' was the most peculiar angel that ever
drew inspiration from our native nectar. Aleck was the very
cream of chivalry, the beau ideal of a gentlemanly first-class
American adventurer. I came near saying vagabond, but
hardly feel justified in using the expression, although the
line of demarkation between the one and the other is very
zigzag, and a person hardly knows which side of the line he
may be on. To be one he may be the other, to be the other
he may be the one. In the mind of this experienced Ranger
it is all about the same thing. Aleck was about the hand-
somest man on the coast, near six feet high, as lithe as a

%

Delaware and as graceful as a statue, at the time of which I
write about forty-five years old, and died at San Francisco in
1859, aged about fifty. However, during his whole career on
this coast he would never have been regarded as over thirty-
five years of age.

The first account I have of Aleck he was captain of a
steamboat on the Tombigbee river. How long he had com-
manded the boat prior to the happening of the event which

204 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER

gave him a fame as wide and as long as the Tombigbee itself,
history fails to inform us, nor does it greatly concern us,
either. Suffice it to say that Aleck, being captain of the
craft, according to his general characteristics utterly and irre-
trievably swamped her in hopeless debt. It was said that
Aleck's steamboat on the Tombigbee became the refuge of all
the impecunious deadheads, broken down sports and played out
gentry in the whole region of navigation from Mobile to Mont-
gomery, and that few passengers paid fare on Aleck's boat.
Now to the point. The steamer was quietly freighting at a
big pile of cotton at an obscure landing on the river, when the
crew all of a sudden knocked off and demanded their full
arrears of wages.

Expostulation, promises and a free distribution of whisky
were of no avail ; further work they refused to do. Aleck
final!} adopted a ruse de guerre — he offered them a compro-
mise. He told them if they would stow away in the hold of
the boat all the cotton then on board, that the owner of the
cotton would become responsible for their pay, and would pay
them when they arrived at Mobile ; but he informed them that
no arrangement would be made until the stowage in the hold
was completed. The crew accepted the proposition and went
to work with a will, and about the time the last bales were
being stowed in ship-shape manner, Aleck quietly proceeded to
batten down the hatches on the whole crew, consisting of
mates, fireman and deck hands. He then went leisurely to
work and treated with the owner of the cotton for " niggers "
to finish loading and to fire up and run the boat to Mobile, all
of which was accomplished in the course of four or five days,
and when the boat was safely moored the famished crew, which
had been all this time without food or drink, were dragged out
in such pitiable condition as to create horror and indignation
in the minds of the gentle Mobilians to such degree as to
cause Aleck to suddenly emigrate to Texas, which was just

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 205

prior to the outbreak of the war with Mexico. On the landing
of Gen. Taylor at Corpus Christ! with his army of occupation,
Aleck joined him with a spy company, and so continued in the
service with marked distinction until the close of the war, when
he came overland to California.

Aleck was the original 1'acific Coast Filibuster, and as I
propose to give an account of all the filibustering expeditions
that were in any way connected with this City of Angels, and
as our present hero was in the zenith of his glory, the first man
and the most prominent angel (after Bill) of our town, and as
he commanded the first filibustering expedition that ever left
the American Pacific coast, and as the expedition was officered
generally by leading men of this fair city, I propose to relate it
as legitimately connected with our angel history.

It is strange, but nevertheless true, that all countries subject
to volcanic eruptions are also peculiarly subject to political
outbreaks, revolutions, or human eruptions. I say all coun-
tries ; I will except one — Iceland. The people of that island
are not eruptive, and for the reason, I apprehend, that they
have been in perpetual war with the elements for the last 1000
years, and have their hands abundantly full to fill their
stomachs and keep soul and body together, and to keep from
freezing to death.

The distance is very great from Iceland to Equfador : there
is not much difference, however, between Hecla and Cotopaxi,
and the only possible difference in the people is that the Ice-
landers are so poor that if they should attempt a revolution
they would at once be "froze out," so they must perforce con-
tent themselves in collecting blubber and wondering at the
eruptions of old Hecla. JSTot so with the favored denizens of
torrid Equador. When Cotopaxi boils, bellows and fumes,
Quito is quiet. When, however, Cotopaxi behaves herself and
is disposed to be quiet, then Quito misbehaves, raises a rumpus,
and perturbs the general quiet of the country by a political

206 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

eruption. In 1850 General Flores was President of Equador.
At the time of his inauguration everything was remarkably
quiet save Cotopaxi, which was just going it, and things were
flourishing under Flores until Cotopaxi shut down. Then the
people raised a smoke, and Flores fled to Panama, thence to
San Francisco, carrying with him enough of the Ecuadorian
national finances to purchase the steamer Lightfoot, equip and
set on foot an expedition of American patriots, who promised
to reseat the exiled President and cool the ardor of the volcanic
Quitoans, and if necessary " douse the glim " of old Cotopaxi
itself, and stand by the President to the last doubloon. Flores
had money — bushels of it. Besides the public swag he got
away wi.h, his nephew, Geronimo Elizondo, a Peruvian mil-
lionaire (years after Deputy Clerk of Los Angeles county),
gave him ten thousand doubloons to assist in reasserting his
right to rule those volcanic Republicans.

The expedition on the Lightfoot was composed of the flower
of California's fighting men, numbering 250. The Owens, the
McNabs, the Taylors and the Turners were of the army of
restoration, and who of the olden time Californians, does not
remember the great personal prowess of Billy Owens, Jim
Taylor and the McNabs, the most eminent of our pioneer
desperadoes ? Billy Owens finally finished Jim Taylor in a
pistol fight. Aleck commanded the army on the Lightfoot,
which was only auxiliary to the main expedition that rendez-
voused at Panama, composed of Spanish- American military'
adventurers and the political adherents of Flores, who. like
himself, had fled the country. The united expedition, forming
a flotilla of two steam transports, under convoy of an armed
gunboat (which, I believe, Flores had purchased from Pern,
that government having accorded him belligerent rights),
entered the Guayaquil river, successfully engaged the shore bat-
teries, landed and captured the city of Guayaquil, where, the
strength of his army being greatly augmented, he lost no time

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 207

in marching on Quito, the unquiet. Like a snowball, Flores*
army gained strength as it advanced, the brave and self-
sacrificing Americans forming a distinct corps and camping
separate from the main army. To use the language of my old
friend Albert H. Clark, of humorous memory, an officer of the
American corps : " One night there seemed to be a very
unusual movement in camp. We could hear bodies of troops
moving, men working in different directions, the rumble of
artillery, for which we could in no way account until morning,
when we found ourselves corraled by the whole army, with
barricades and entrenchments in front of them, all facing
inward toward us, horse, foot and artillery. We . were then
informed that we, being more ornamental than useful, were to
be disarmed, marched back to Guayaquil and shipped out of the
country. Our military ardor had been very much damped by
the tropical mists of the country, but this was too much; but
still we bore it. because there was no way of getting around the
thing. We were disarmed, marched under guard to Guayaquil
and given a free passage to Panama, where we arrived desti-
tute, disgusted and utterly surfeited with military expedi-
tions." Gen. Flores had compromised with his rival, and they
had agreed to rule jointly, and the patriotic Americans were
dismissed without so much as " Thank you, gentlemen." Of
the angels who went on that expedition, the only ones who
returned, so far as I remember, were Aleck himself, Albert H.
Clark and Frank D. Gilbert, all men of local prominence in
their time. The Flores expedition left San Francisco in 1851.
The patriots did not, however, get Back to Los Angeles until
early in 1853. Aleck's first break after his return was to form
a joint stock company to work our salt works, which resulted
in his effectually salting some of our solid citizens, Charles R.
Johnson and Uncle Billy Rubottom in particular.

In October, 1853, the barque Caroline sailed from San Fran-
cisco with the republic of Lower California and Sonora on

208 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

board. William Walker as President, and Watkins as 'Vice-
President, with a full complement of Ministers, of War, of
Marine, of Finance, of Foreign Relations and of State, with all
their respective Secretaries, and other grave functionaries, judi-
cial officers and so forth, and too tedious to mention, and in fix-
ing up 'the departments of government, with a military
establishment, generals, colonels and all such like, all of whom
had to be selected from less than fifty men, it is doubtful
whether there was the traditional private to stand guard. In
November the government of the two republics reached La
Paz, landed, scattered the inhabitants, captured the Governor,
proclaimed the independence of Lower California, hauled down
the Mexican flag, declared the civil code of Louisiana to be the
law of the land, and ran up the flag of manifest destiny — a
blue field and a lone red star. All. of this was done within half
an hour. A few days thereafter a great battle was fought.
The ungrateful Mexicans rebelled against their liberators, two
or three were killed on either side, the rebels were whipped and
the government triumphed. This was called the battle of La
Paz. The news of this battle caused more enthusiasm in Cali-
fornia than did the battles fought by Taylor on the Rio Grande
among the war champions in the United States. In San Fran-
cisco the national flag of the new republic was flung to the
breeze on the corner of Kearney and California streets, where a
recruiting office was opened and the cut-and-dried bonds of the
government were put upon the market and sold. The war
spirit ran riot. Freedom to the Mexicans and spoils to the
Americans was the battle cry. Lower California must be free,
and then, ho for Sonora ! A league of land, with cattle to
stock it, and all for the trouble of going there.

Next came the news of the battle of La Grulla, where the
liberators were handled without gloves by a young Mexican
Hercules named Melendez, who objected to being liberated.

"Young America to the rescue/' was the cry. Men of

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 209

means advanced money, recruits flocked to the standard of the
government, headquarters in San Francisco were crowded, the
drums clattered, the trumpets brayed and the fifes screamed.
•' La Grulla must be avenged ! Melendez, the rebel, must be
hung ! The Mexican tyrants must be put down ! " Accord-
ingly, in December, the barque Anita, flying the lone star flag,
sailed from San Francisco, carrying 240 ardent liberators. In
the meantime the government, carrying the archives with it,
abandoned La Paz, which is around on the gulf side of the
peninsula, and came around and established the national capi-
tal at Ensenada, where it was joined by the Anita contingent.
Encouraged by this formidable reinforcement, the govern-
ment, by a graceful flourish of Walker's pen, abolished the
old flag and ran up in its stead the triple-barred and twin-
starred flag, and annexed Sonora, all in a few minutes,
followed by a grandiloquent proclamation, which dwelt on
the "holiness of the cause;" the government was backed by
the people of California, who believed in the

" Good old rule — the simple plan—-
That they should take who have the power,
A.nd they should keep who can."

All in all about five hundred men rallied to the support of,
the twin republics. But somehow or other young Hercules
still refused to be liberated, and kept harrassing the govern-
ment to such an extent that they found it difficult to forage
.for beef and beans, the rank and file became hungry and
dissatisfied, and some attempted to desert, for which the
government had them shot. Melendez, the mendacious rebel,
kept pegging away at the government until it was driven from
its capital, without a place whereon to rest its weary head,
and so it set out on foot for Sonora. Melendez resolved to go
to Sonora also, and followed close on the rear of the emigrating

* O O

government, harrassed it day and night, and followed it across

the United States line, the government having deflected
14

210 REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER.

towards San Diego, with Melendez barking at its heels. Maj .
McKinstry, commanding the United States post at San Diego,
charitably marched to the rescue and kindly took the govern-
ment of the twin republics in out of the cold, and bade Her-
cules Melendez go home and be a good boy, cultivate sandillas
and have an ever open eye for jerked beef.

The rag-tag and bobtail of the army came to Los Angeles.
The government was sent to San Francisco, where it was tried
and acquitted, and a year or two later went on a pilgrimage of
liberation to Nicaragua, with about the same success that
attended its unappreciated efforts in Lower California and
Sonora.

This writer of filibusters will excuse himself for the present,
and promise in the next chapter to take up and dispose of the
noble Count Gaston Rausset de Boulbon, and the lamentable
invasion of poor Harry Crabbe.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 211

CHAPTER XVII.

More Filibusters — Cafe Barrierre — Madam Begon — The Expedition of Count
Gaston de Raoussett Boulbon to Sonora — AllMade Prisoners— The Noble
Count is Shot and His Followers are Banished to Los Angeles — The
Crabbe Expedition to Sonora— Its Objects — The Ainsa Family— Gandara
and Pesqueira — The Massacre — One Survivor Tells the Tale — The Feast
of Demons — Fernandez the Traitor — Alexis Godey and Kit Carson —
Crabbe's Original Letter to the Mexican Prefect Announcing His
Coming — Pesqueira's Proclamation.

WILL drop Aleck Bell for the present,in order to
continue the history of the Filibusters. We have
drifted out of '53 to '54, when our angel population
was greatly increased by the influx of the rag-tag and bobtail
of the exploded Walker Government of Lower California and
Sonora, which gave up the ghost on the San Diego side of the
line about February, 1854, after a brilliant existence of some
four months. Many of our best citizens came from the '-'busted
up " twin republics of Lower California and Sonora, all of whom
have disappeared. The theory of filibustering, or manifest
destiny was: "First, that the earth is the Lord's and the
fullness thereof, and we are the Lord's people ; second, that all
Spanish- American governments are worthless, and should be
reconstructed, and that such is our mission ; that the people ot
Lower California and Sonora are, or should be, dissatisfied with
Mexican rule, and are, or should be, ripe for rebellion, and if not
in terror of the Mexican central despotism would cry out for
American aid to shake off their galling chains ; the Sonorefios
ought to rise, proclaim their independence, and cry for help
from the generous Filibuster, who stood ready to help the
down-trodden Mexican and to feather his own nest in particu-

212 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

lar." We were, therefore, determined to succor the oppressed
people of Lower California and Sonora. who were silently pray-
ing that we might come and relieve them from their cruel yoke,
and their surplus supply of horses and such like, and possess
the lands of the country and receive the thanks of a grateful
people after we had won their liberties and relieved them of
their property. Such were the noble sentiments that inspired
the champions of manifest destiny, or the spirit of conquest
run riot, and culminating in those piratical expeditions of 1851
to Cuba and 1853 to Lower California.

At that time in California it was as unpopular to be op-
posed to filibustering as it was to be opposed to African
slavery, then our most cherished institution, and few had the
courage to say aught against it. Then who should blame the
man who shouldered a rifle and went to the field to maintain
and vindicate the spirit of the times. As an instance of the
spirit that prevailed at the time, I will .state as a fact that in
1853 and 1854 Don Pedro C. Carrillo was one of the most
popular and influential Democrats in the California Senate, and
that when Walker was raiding and robbing ranches in Lower
California, Don Pedro greatly impaired his popularity in the
Senate by offering a series of resolutions in condemnation of the
Filibusters. His resolutions were voted down, and ponderous
blows were showered upon him as being opposed to the spirit of
American liberty. Another was the judgment of Ogden Hoff-
man, of the United States District Court, in passing sentence
upon Col. H. P. Watkins, Vice-President of the Eepublic of
Lower California and Sonora, convicted of the crime of setting •
on foot a military expedition against the Republic of Mexico.
Said the Judge: "From my heart I sympathize with the
accused, but I am sworn to the execution of 'the law and must
discharge my duty, whatever my sympathies may be. To the
law and to the evidence, then, we must turn our exclusive
attention. I may admire the spirited men who have gone forth

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 213

upon these expeditions to upbuild, as they claim, the broken-
down altars and rekindle the extinguished fires of liberty in
Mexico, or Lower California. It may be that they are not ad-
venturers gone forth to build for themselves a cheap fortune in
another land. But even were such my opinion of their pur-
poses, and their objects as glowing and as honorable as depicted
by counsel, still, sitting as a Judge, I should regard only the
single question, has the law been violated ? " The Vice-
President was convicted by a jury, and fined $1500 by the
Judge, not one cent of which was ever paid, neither was there
an effort to enforce its collection, and no imprisonment followed.
Walker, the President, was afterward tried in the same Court,
under a like indictment, and acquitted. To sympathize with
filibustering at the time was popular. An actual Filibuster
was a lion — a hero.

In the latter part of 1854 we had a most delightful accession
to our angel population from the burst-up French filibuster-
ing expedition to Sonora nnder the leadership of the noble
Count Gaston de Raousset Boulbon. Our population gen-
erally, when not engaged in broils, was, at the time, jovial,
light-hearted and happy; but the arrival of some two hundred
rollicking sons of Gaul gave additional zest to our happy
times. The fifty per cent, of those Gallic vandals who came to
our town were of the very essence of chivalry^ gallantry and
good humor. The most of them went to cooking and keeping
restaurants, some to work in the vineyards and at wine-making,
while not a few procured shotguns and made war on the rabbits
and hares and other convenient small game fwith which the
country at the time greatly abounded. The accession was
valuable, and every Frenchman did his best to make himself
not only useful but ornamental and agreeable. Who of the
bon vivants of the time does not remember the inimitable
cuisine of that great master in the art, Cascabel, who was chef
at the famous restaurant of Madame Barrierre. Cascabel was

214 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGEU.

a gentleman — a chevalier — and had been a line officer in the
army of Algiers, had in some way or other drifted out of the
service and into California, embarked in the expedition, and,
like all noble Franks when in reduced circumstances, took to
cooking as naturally as a duck to a mud puddle. Myself, my
legal friend, A. J. King, Esq., and the noble cook formed three
of a company in January, 185/5, to explore the Kern river
region, until then a terra incognita, since which I have had no
account of Cascabel. 1 think the good coaking of the eminent
artist added greatly to the Venerable appearance of that prince
of good livers, Judge Myron Norton, who was a generous
patron of the Cafe Barrierre.

Of all that Frankish immigration I believe there are only two
survivors in our city, and one is Madame Begon, who is the
owner of a very pretty property on Castelar street, in the upper
part of the city, and the other is one of the prominent vignerons
of the Vineyard city. At the coining of the French Filibus-
ters the Madame was in the very prime of buxom womanhood,
and started a small restaurant at the place where the Ferguson
A; Rose stable now stands, and for a reasonable compensation
would give you, in addition to a well cooked dinner and bottle
of wine, a vigorous lesson in rapier exercise, for which purpose
she kept on hand a pair of gloves, foils and masks. The
Madame was a master in the use of the foil, and my ideal
hero, Bill, was the only one I knew who could stand up to her.
The Madame was emphatically a militaire, had served twenty
years in Algiers as a vivandiere, and as a natural consequence
took easily to filibustering. How the Madame came to Cali-
fornia I am unable to say, but should the reader be curious
to know, let him call on the fat old gray-haired dame who
reclines in her easy chair and lives easily off her rents, at her
residence on Castelar street. As far as the French Sonora
filibustering emigration to Los Angeles is concerned, Madame
Begon stands high.

REMINISCENCES OF A HANGER. 215

Count Raousset was also an ex-French militaire, and of
former high rank — how high I could never learn, but I am
free to maintain, on the honor of a truthful chronicler, that if
not so high as general it was certainly above that of corporal;
and had fortune prolonged his days of usefulness to the
present, and to our city, he would have been at least a colonel.
How the noble G-aston came to California it is riot necessary
to inquire, but it is fair to presume that like all of us, from
the noble Duke of Sonora to the humble writer of these
reminiscences, he came to better his condition, and the first
step in that direction was into the kitchen of a French hotel
in San Francisco, where he became chief cook. Our climate,
however, having an elevating influence on the illustrious repre-
sentative of the noble house of Boulbon, as well as on Amer-
icans, and pining for conquest, his first capital was invested in
a shotgun, with which he sallied forth to war on the myriads of
aquatic fowl which covered the face of the deep' sloughs across
the bay. The Count was successful in his new venture beyond
his most sanguine anticipations, counted his accumulations by
thousands, and thereby counted up a good bank account and
sighed for worlds to conquer.

About this time the San Francisco world was venting its
ridicule on the exploded Walker twin governments of Sonora
and La Baja, which led the ambitio'us Boulbon to conceive a
scheme of conquest worthy of the mettle of French valor. So
having the ins and outs of cookery in San Francisco, he easily
cooked up a kitchen cabinet and resolved himself to be
Governor-General and Military Dictator of Sonora. With
G-aston de Raousset to resolve was to act. to act was to
achieve. So early in the season the ship Challenge spread her
canvas to 'the breeze and sailed out of the Golden Gate,
carrying " Caesar and his fortunes," backed up by four hundred
bristling bayonets. The noble Gaul was on his way, fully bent
on ruling or ruining the Sonora roost. The Count was beyond

21G REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

question a good cook, and had counted on dishing up the
Sonoreuos like beef a la mode. But that peculiar people,
being adepts in the business themselves, most effectually (as
the sequel will show) cooked the poor Frenchman's goose and
sent his scullions to h Los Angeles.

What the complications were that surrounded the expedition
of Raousset de Boulbon were never fully understood, and if
known at the time would have doubtless been forgotten. But
if my memory serves me — and I only write from memory — I
believe there was a rivalry between _,two military chieftains in
Sonora, Yafiez and Blanco, and one Don Luis del Valle
represented that the gentle Sonorenos were honestly crying for
help from the galling despotism of some one or something,
(Don Luis was Mexican Consul at San Francisco) ; that every
man, woman and child had a pair of old-fashioned plow
clevises securely riveted on their ankles, with great Down East
log chains imported for that particular purpose, welded into
each particular clevis, which each particular man, woman and
child in Sonora were compelled to drag around in all of their
business, agricultural, commercial, domestic or mechanical,
chafe or no chafe. Hence the wail of despair, the cry for help,
as represented by the patriotic Don Luis. "A burnt child
dreads the fire." The Americans had burnt their fingers in
attempting to strike off tne shackles of despotism in La .Baja,
and we would "place our thumbs on our noses and gyrate our
fingers at Don Luis when he talked about chains, and we would
say, " Tell that to the marines." But the polite Frenchmen,
not understanding our slang, fell into Don Luis' trap and so
got their fingers burnt. The chains were red hot.

After landing at Guaymas a severe and hotly contested battle
was fought between the Mexican regulars and militia under
General Yafiez, 4o the number of about four hundred, and Connt
Raousset and his unfortunate followers, of the same number.
The battle lasted three hours, the Mexicans using artillery.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 217

The Count's men were dumbfounded at being attacked, whereas
they had expected to be received as liberators. This surprise
gave the Mexicans the advantage. The Count performed prod-
igies of valor, and after a loss of forty-eight killed and seventy-
eight wounded he surrendered, was tried by military commis-
sion, condemned and shot on the beach at Guaymas, meeting
his fate like a Christian hero. He met his fate with so much
dignity and firmness as to excite only admiration and respect
on the part of the gentle people whose chains he wished to
break.

When I come to think of it I remember that Don Luis del
Valle was arrested, tried and convicted in the United States
District Court for setting on foot a filibustering expedition.
But as neither the District Attorney, the attorneys for the
defendant, the judge or the jury could understand head or tail
of the "complications," as they called them, the whole question
was dismissed, greatly to the relief of all concerned, the govern-
ment in particular.

Thenceforth for two long years the oppressed people of Sonora
patiently bore their ills. Not a wail or cry for help was heard
from that down-trodden people. The harsh clanking of those
horid down East log chains that encumbered the limbs of the
athletic Yaquis and their kindred, and dragged at the heels of
the fair ladies of the land as they whirled in the giddy waltz,
failed to reach the ear of the liberty-loving Filibuster, and
Sonora was left to fight it out in the fashion of the Kilkenny
cats until Crabbe put in an appearance early in 1857. Many
deny that Crabbe was a Filibuster, but I affirm that he was,
and the assertion is based on the following facts :

In 1856 the Walker government in Nicaragua was a con-
ceded success, and filibustering was popular. Crabbe was a
disappointed politician, having aspired to an election as the
Know Nothing candidate for United States Senator on the
meeting of the Legislature of 1856. He was ambitious and

218 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

poor, aud had married into a ruined family — that is, once rich,
now poor and proud. Walker had conquered a firm footing in
Central America, with the capital of Mexico as the objective
point of his career of conquest. Crabbe would start in on
Sonora, wage his conquests southward, and meet and greet us
as common brothers in a common cause, and celebrate the
conquest of Central America and Mexico in the ancient capital
of the Montezumas. How do I know this as being the ambi-
tious dreams of Crabbe when he left San Francisco for Los
Angeles ? This is the way I know it. Being in Nicaragua at
the time, we received letters from our friends, members of the
expedition ; one in particular from Admiral Gift — that is, the
late George W. — who was to command the navy of the grand
invasion that was to "throw thirty thousand men into Mexico
before the heat of summer falls upon us." In Nicaragua we
had the secrets of the invasion, and were bantered as to who
would be first at the feast in the City of Mexico. Crabbe was
a Filibuster, and why not ? Were we not all Filibusters at the
time ?

The Ainzas were a family of Manilla Spaniards, an old man
with three highly educated sons and several beautiful and ac-
complished daughters, the oldest of whom married Crabbe, the
next married Bacey Bevan, the third a gentleman named Cor-
telyou, the fourth a Dr. Talliaferro, a member of the Legisla-
ture of 1856. Cortelyou went with Crabbe to Sonora, and was
killed. The sons were afterwards arrested and imprisoned in
Sonora, and were released on demand of the United States, they
being naturalized citizens. The Ainzas came from Manilla
with immense wealth, and settled iii Sonora, investing all of
their capital in mines and lands, which were, in the due course
of revolution, confiscated, and the family came to Los Angeles
-as refugees, afterwards settled in Stockton, and later in San
Francisco, where they dwelt in 1855-6. In 1856 there was a
rivalry between two chief tains in Sonora — Gandara and PCS-

REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER. 219

queira. Gandara was in, Pesqueira was out. So Crabbe made
an arrangement with Pesqueira to help him oust Gandara, and
Pesqueira was to restore the confiscated Ainza estate and
reward Crabbe's followers with land grants, and horses, and
such like privileges. That was only the entering wedge to the
towering ambition of Crabbe, who was a man of confessedly
great ability.

It seems that when Crabbe's plans were perfected he had
about one thousand men enlisted. Possibly some two or three
hundred went to Yurna, where some defection took place, and
many abandoned the enterprise. Crabbe, like Pizarro of re-
nown, gave all who chose the privilege of backing out, but
informed them that after once breaking camp at Yurna all
would be subject to strict military discipline, and desertion
would be punished with death. He set out from Yurna, how-
ever, with about one hundred men, and made a temporary
camp at a place on the Gila known to the present day as Fili-
buster Camp, in order to rest and prepare for the march across
the arid desert intervening between the Gila and Sonora.

In the meantime, Pesqueira and Gandara had made up their
quarrel on the common basis of " death to the Filibusters."
On reaching the frontier town of Sonoita Crabbe was first made
aware of Pesqueira's treachery, and that the compact between
the two patriots was to be sealed with the blood of himself and
his followers. He had gone too far to retreat. Crabbe was a
man of true metal, and being in for it he determined to do or
die. He accordingly issued a proclamation, here given word
for word, setting forth his peaceful and legitimate object in
coming, his determination to stay, his ability to defend himself
if attacked, and then pushed forward to Caborca.

SONOITA, March 26, 1857.
Don Jose Maria Eedondo, Prefect of the District of Altar:

SIR: In accordance with the colonization laws of Mexico,
and in compliance with several very positive invitations from the

220 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

most influential citizens of Sonora, I have entered the limits of
your State with one hundred companions and in advance of
nine hundred others, in the expectation of making happy homes
with and among you. I have come with the intention of
injuring no one; without intrigues, public or private. Since
my arrival I have given no indication of sinister designs, but
on the contrary have made pacific overtures. It is true that I
am provided with arms and ammunition, but you well know
that it is not customary for Americans or any other civilized
people to travel without them; moreover, we are about to travel
where the Apaches are continually committing depredations.
From one circumstance I imagine, to my surprise, that you are
preparing hostile measures and collecting a force for destroying
me and my companions. I know that you have given orders for
poisoning the wells and have prepared to use the vilest and most
cowardly measures. But bear in mind, sir, that whatever we
may have to suffer shall fall upon the heads of you and those
who assist you. I could never have believed that you would de-
file yourselves by such barbarous practices. I also know that you
have not ceased to rouse against us, by mischievous promises,
the tribe of Papagos, our best friends. But it is very likely
that, considering my position, your expectations will be baffled.
I have come to your country having a right to do so, and as
has been shown, expecting to be received with open arms ; but
now I conceive that I am to encounter death among enemies
destitute of humanity. As far as concerns my companions now
here and about to arrive, I protest against any evil procedure
toward them. You have your own course to follow, but bear
this in mind : should blood be shed, on your head be it all and
not on mine. Nevertheless, you can make yourself sure, and
proceed with your hostile preparations. As for me, I shall lose
no time in going to where I have for some time intended to go,
and am only waiting for my party. I am the leader, and my
intention is to obey the promptings of the law of nature -and of
self-preservation. Until we meet at Altar I remain,
Your obdt. servt.,

HENRY A. CRABBE.

This letter is given to the Warden of Sonoita, to be delivered
without delay to the Prefect of Altar. H. A. C.

Four days later Pesqueira issued the following modest Pro-
.clama to the gentle people of Sonora [Translation] :

REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER. 221

TGNACIO PESQUEIRA,

Substitute Governor of the State and Commander-in-Chief
of the Forces of the Frontier, to His Fellow -Citizens :

FREE SONORENOS ! To ARMS, ALL ! !

The hour has sounded, which I lately announced to you, in
which you would have to prepare for the bloody struggle which
you are about to enter upon.

In that arrogant letter you have just heard a most explicit
declaration of war made by the chief of the invaders. What
reply does it merit ? That we march to meet him.

Let us fly, then, with all the fury of hearts intolerant of op-
pression, to chastise the savage Filibuster who has dared, in an
unhappy hour, to tread our national soil, and to provoke,
insensate, our rage.

Show no mercy, no generous sentiments, toward these
hounds !

Let them be like wild beasts who, daring to trample under
foot the law of nations, the right of States and all social insti-
tutions, dare to invoke the law of nature as their only guide,
and to appeal to brute force alone.

Sonorenos, let our conciliation become sincere in a common
hatred of this accursed horde of pirates, destitute of country,
religion or honor.

Let the tri-colored ribbon, sublime creation of the genius of
Iguala, be our only distinctive mark, to protect us from the
enemy's bullets as well as from humiliation and affront. Upon
it let us write the beautiful words, ^LIBERTY OR DEATH," and
henceforth it shall bear for us one more sentiment, the powerful,
invincible bond that now unites the two parties of our State,
lately divided by civil war.

We shall soon return covered with glory, having forever
secured the welfare of Sonora, and having, in defiance of
tyranny, established in indelible characters this principle: The
people that wants liberty will have it.

Meanwhile citizens, relieve your hearts by giving free scope
to the enthusiasm that oppresses them.
Viva Mexico' Death to the Filibusters.

YGNACIO PESQUEIRA.

Ures, March 30, 1857.

Upon entering Cab<n-ca he was attacked in front, flank and
rear, desperately fought his way to the plaza, and was there
forced to assume the defensive, which was successfully main-
tained against twenty times his number for several days, and

222 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

finally, under solemn guarantees and after more than half his
men had been killed, and nearly if not all wounded, himself
included, his ammunition exhausted, the house in which he
had taken refuge burning over his head, Crabbe laid down his
arms and surrendered. Within less than twelve hours the
whole party, the well and the wounded, were murdered in the
most barbarous manner. Their heads were severed from their
mutilated bodies, and the head of Henry A. Crabbe was placed
on a dish to adorn the head of the table at the grand dinner
celebrated two days after the butchery, and over which his
former ally, Ygnacio Pesqueira, presided. The bodies of his
followers were left on the ground to be devoured by the swine,
and of course in some degree contributed to the general weal
of the good people of Oaborca.

While Crabbe was besieged at Caborca a small party of
about twenty men, under my Ranger comrade, Grant Oury,
whose name I unfortunately omitted in naming the survivors
of the Ranger company — Grant is now member of Congress
from Arizona — started from Tucson to his relief, and reached
the vicinity of the town just before the surrender, but could
in no way aid him. They were surrounded by Mexicans and
had to fight their way the entire distance to the American line.
On his march Crabbe had left two sick men at a ranch on the
American side of the line — men . who never saw Sonora.
A party of Sonora chivalry came over and dragged these
two sick men from their beds and brutally murdered them.
There was one survivor of the Crabbe party, a boy named
Evans, aged fourteen years, who was permitted to witness the
butchery of his companions and to be present at the feast of
reconciliation. In the summer of 1857 I met this boy Evans,
from whom I learned the details above stated, and which I
believe are in the main correct. The reader will lose no time
in coming to the conclusion that Pesquiera was a very great
villain, whose true merits might be given the meed of his just

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 223

deserts only by a second Shakspeare — an ordinary pen would fail
to do him justice. The true actor and superlative villain in the
horrible conspiracy and tragedy was one Fernandez, whose full
name I forget, but whose antecedent history I am quite familiar
with, and will proceed to give it, although it carries me back to
the first exploring expedition to the then unknown region in
1844 by John C. Fremont.

Fremont says in his narrative, (which I have not seen
since 1850,) that on his way from Los Angeles to Santa Fe in
1844, on reaching some springs somewhere in our present
Arizona, he found a party of Mexicans recently murdered by
Indians ; that one very small boy, four or five years old, had
escaped the general massacre, and when discovered was cling-
ing to the body of his dead mother and crying piteously. The
sight of the dead mother and living infant excited such
sympathy and indignation in the minds of the brave men of
Fremont's party that Kit Carson and Alexis GJ-odey obtained
permission to pursue the murdering savages, which they did
(the two men only), following the trail for two or three days.
They overtook, surprised, killed and routed the murderers, re-
captured and brought back the horses of the murdered Mex-
icans — one of the most brilliant exploits recorded in the annals
of Indian warfare, and places the names of Carson and G-odey
at the head of the column of American pioneer heroes. The
little Fernandez was tenderly cared for, taken to Washington,
adopted in the family of the great Benton, raised and educated
as a gentleman. Attaining manhood'he came to Los Angeles,
and afterwards went to Sonora. It was he who negotiated be-
tween Pesqueira, the Ainzas and Crabbe, and procured the
assistance of Crabbe for Pesqueira. It was he who negotiated
the terms of peace between G-andara and Pesqueira, to be based
on the massacre of the Crabbe party of Americans, and it was
he who actad as chief butler and master of ceremonies at the
feast of demons. Far better for the good name of humanity

224 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

had Fremont been a day late at the scene of the murder of the
boy's parents, in order that the jackals or vultures could have
feasted on his infant carcass, and saved the world so great a
shame.

The exploits of the pioneer heroes of the former great West,
to us the East, has been the theme of song and story, as will
our history of Indian fights, adventures and escapes of the
early pioneers of California in crossing desert and mountain.
Having in this chapter made a digression to record that marvel-
ous performance of Carson and Godey, it will be quite apropo
to relate two wonderful adventures in digger-land as related by
D. M. Adams, Esq., the biographer of A. W. Potts, Esq., who
has been Clerk of Los Angeles County for so long a time that
the memory of man runneth not to the contrary, a pioneer of
'49, and one whom the people so love and honor, that he could
be Governor of our great State but for his excessive modesty.
Says his biographer:

"One evening, along in July, 1849, the train to which young
Potts belonged went into carnp on the banks of the Upper
Humboldt. Not a stick of wood was in sight except on the
opposite side of the river, which was running bank-full. Not
even a handful of buffalo chips — the campers' last resort —
<;ould be found. It was plain that the crowd would have to go
without coifee, slapjacks and fried bacon, as matters stood.
But on the other side of the river stood a perfect thicket of
partly-burnt, dead willows — just the thing for a good camp
fire. Young Potts, who always was an expert swimmer,
proposed to strip off, swini across and get enough to boil coffee
with. And he did so — that is, he stripped and swam across,
after which (and being naked) he walked some distance to
where the willows stood, fearing no danger, although they were
right in the midst of the Shoshones. He had just commenced
breaking some willows when from all sides and within twenty
or thirty, yards arose a perfect forest of Indian heads, and

REMINISCENCES OF A HANGER. 225

simultaneously, a wild, blood-curdling war-whoop from a
hundred lusty throats, burst upon the air, and the way
young Andrew Wilson Potts almost jumped out of his skin
(all he had on) and cut for that river, was a caution to the
jack-rabbits and telegraph lizards of that delectable region.
The startled sage-hen whirred away in alarm, and the usually
happy horned toad stopped short in his amorous antics and
gazed in petrified amazement at the spectral form flying by with
the swiftness of the wind. He reached the river ; a plunge, a
splash, and he was safely across, he hardly knew how. After
reaching his own bank he ventured to look back, and there he
saw a host of dusky maidens and warriors laughing loud and
laughing deep, holding their very stomachs to keep from
falling down, in their convulsive he-hawing. The aboriginal
jokers of the desert had played it on him — had simply yelled
to see him run — and were having their fun out at his expense.
Of course they could have shot him dead at first if they had
wanted to.

" But A. W. subsequently got even on the redskin race for
this practical business. After he had reached California, and
had been here two or three years, he was engaged in mining on
the Upper Merced. He and his partners had taken out con-
siderable coarse gold from a bar in the stream, below which
there was a very deep hole in the river. Some one suggested
that a large quantity of the precious metal might have washed
down and lodged on the bottom of this-hole, and it was finally
determined to get a diving apparatus and prospect the dirt at
the bottom. A diving suit of guttapercha, completely envelop-
ing the wearer, with huge round glass eye-windows, and a tube
leading up from the head to let in the air, having been pro-
cured, one day one of the partners went down to bring up some
of the dirt at the bottom of this deep hole, to see what was in
it. Wilse sat on the bank holding the signal-string leading

down to the diver. While thus occupied a lot of Indians, men.
15

226 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

women and children, came along. Thinking Wilse was fish-
ing, and taking great interest in everything having little work
about it, they, too, sat down to look on and see if he would
catch any fish. After awhile a jerk was felt on the signal-
string. One of the bucks who could talk a little English re-
marked : " Heap big bite ; heap catch em big fish ! " Wilse
nodded, and began to pull up. The Indians were all eyes and
mouth in expectancy. But when the great, big, slick, black,
devil-looking sort of a thing shot out of the water, with its
great, round, glaring glass eyes, as big as saucers, words fail.
A scream of terror, a yell of horror, and the Indian outfit dis-
appeared as suddenly and mysteriously as though a ton of
nitro-glycerine had burst in their midst and annihilated them.
No Indian was ever after seen around that camp. One sight
of the water-devil was enough."

It is written that in the early services of George Washington
an Indian exhausted his ammunition in firing at him, but was
unable to hit his mark. That afterward the Indian told the
illustrious George that the Great Spirit had reserved him for
some special purpose, for some great good ; that he w?,s not to
be killed by a bullet. We are safe in surmising that the gen-
erous Potts in surviving those two remarkable adventures
related by his biogragher, was reserved for much good to his
fellow man, and in Mr. Potts, as well as in the immortal
Washington, the same has been verified. We infer that in
thankfulness to an eves protecting Providence in saving him
from such dire danger the subject of the above sketch has
almost devoted his life to the service of suffering humanity.
His generosity is without limit. The Creator never made but
one A. W. Potts.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 227

CHAPTER XVIII.

More .filibusters — The Expedition of Admiral Zerrnau to Lower Califor-
nia — " The Stern Admiral " —Gen. Blancarte Traps and Sends the
Party as Prisoners to Mexico— Bob Baldwin — John Cullen — Smith
and His Bloody Record — J-olm Temple and the Plan to Rob Him —
His Vast Wealth— End of Smith.

chronicler of the salient features of pioneer times
thought he had disposed of all the filibustering expe-
ditions that had in any degree been connected with
our angel history. .But alas ! for human calculations ; he had
reckoned without his host. After having disposed of the
Flores expedition, the "twin republics" (our nearest neighbors
and kindred), the unfortunate Gaston de Raousset and the ill-
fated Crabbe, all of which required two chapters of truthful
history, he congratulated himself and the reader on having
reached the last of the filibustering angels, when lo ! the expe-
dition of Admiral Zerman looms up and illumines his memory.
The kind of an Admiral Zerman wa"s this historian will not
vouch for, only that he was a Mexican Admiral, of Mexican
fame, if not Mexican name, and as the unnautical editor of El
Clamor Publico, in the times of the Crimean war, said of Rear-
Admiral Bruce, so the writer declares of Zerman, that he was
a " stern Admiral," for the reason that in point of achievement
Zerman was certainly & long ways "astern" of any Admiral
who appears on the pages of history. The only connection
Zerman' s expedition had with Los Angeles was that it carried
away three of our most esteemed angels, the first a gentleman,
one of two brothers, Doctor and John Cullen. The Doctor was

228 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the pioneer in the wool trade of Los Angeles county, and John,
a noble fellow, opened the first grocery and provision store in
this City of Angels. His specialty was not a success, as our
angels then, as now, had human appetites, and in addition to
their fondness for Chile peppers, partook largely of imported
articles in the provision line, so poor John fell a victim to mis-
placed confidence and noble generosity, and got "busted" in
business. That is to say, he believed in angel honesty, and
gave credit to angels " to the manor born," as likewise to the
gringo, and was thereby driven by a cruel destiny to close
business, and cast his fortunes into the maelstrom of manifest
destiny, and like thousands of noble spirits of the time, was
swallowed up in its remorseless vortex. The next was young
Bob Baldwin, a true son of an honorable ancestry ; that is to
say, Bob belonged to one of the "first families of Virginia,"
and was a runaway from the University of that old State.
When here Bob was about eighteen years of age, and was a
firm believer not only in manifest destiny, but in his own star,
believing that it was his peculiar destiny to become eventually,
by some hook or crook, the ruler of Mexico. Poor Bob ! what
has become of him ? I saw him at Vera Cruz in 1859 as a
Lieutenant of artillery under Juarez, when that great defender
of Mexican national integrity was besieged by Miramon. Bob
had then been three years in the service, and had risen from
the ranks, where he entered upon his release from his Mexican
prison. He said when he reached a captaincy he would feel
himself on the highway to the goal of his destiny. Poor Bob !
I fear he never reached it. The third angel who- went away
with Zerman was Smith, and to distinguish Smith from all
other angel Smiths, I will here assert that Smith was an. angel
blacksmith, and worked for John G-oller and Jim Baldwin, on
Los Angeles street, and was a very peculiar angel, and went
filibustering just because it was born in him. Smith was a
rover, out and out. Having met him in 1859, in Minatitlan,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 229

on the Coazacualcos River, the dividing line between Vera Cruz
and Tabasco, and having known him here in Los Angeles, I
gained his confidence, and not only obtained the history of the
Zerman expedition, but his own private experience and exploits
in California and elsewhere. He was the greatest rascal I ever
knew, and as he told me so many peculiar circumstances con-
nected with his own fortunes, after having told of the Zerman
expedition I will relate a few of them — only a few of the least
bloody ones.

In October, 1855, the brig Archibald Grade sailed out of
the Golden Gate, carrying Zerman and his foolish followers, to
the number of about one hundred, bound for La Paz, which
proved to be anything but a haven of "peace" to the great
stern Admiral and his luckless expeditionists. Zerman claimed
to have a commission from some high Mexican authority to
rule Lower California, and on landing at La Paz presented
his authority, sealed with the great seal bearing the sym-
bolical nopal and Mexican reptile, to old General Blancarte,
who ruled with a rawhide and laid the said rawhide on hard
and heavy on all occasions. I say when Zerman presented his
patent of authority and told Blancarte to get out, Blancarte
called a file of ragged ruffians who collared Zerman, and Blan-
carte told Zerman to get in, and he was accordingly tumbled
neck and heels into the La Paz lock-up, where he signed an
order for his followers to land without arms and form in front
of the Quartel General, which being in due form accomplished,
old Blancarte had the whole batch of fools securely ironed
and sent in to keep company with their stern leader. The
upshot of all this was that the whole party were finally shipped
across the gulf to San Bias, and compelled to foot it all the
way to the City of Mexico, each patriot carrying a chain
fastened to his ankle and conveniently thrown over his shoulder
by way of ornament. Smith, who was refractory to the utmost
degree, was specially honored with a pair of the aforesaid

230 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

chains, one on each leg, and fastened together in the middle.
They were imprisoned in the City of Mexico, and kindly
treated, long enough to enable the proper authorities to inquire
the reason of their foolishness, when they were released, the
most of them finding employment, those who were mechanics,
among whom was our angelic Smith, being placed in the gov-
ernment shops and foundries. Some took to the army, like
poor Bob, others, following the bent of their inclinations, went
to running their faces and playing monte, as had been their
wont in this land of gold.

And so ended the ambitious designs of the stern Admiral on
our poor neighbors of Lower California, whose poverty alone
should have been a sufficient safeguard against the cupidity of
the adventurous knights of manifest destiny. May they ever
rest in their poverty alone is the wish of this writer of
reminiscences.

Smith was a Maine man. I might have said " State of
Maine," but why people should say State of Maine any more
than they would say State of California, State of Kentucky,
or State of Missouri, I could never understand ; but hereafter,
as now, I will simply say Maine, just as I would say California,
always leaving out "the State of" as three words too many to-
express the same meaning.

Smith was a natural born cut-throat, but otherwise honest,
save in one or two particulars, which manifestly, and on all
occasions cropped out. He left Maine suddenly, between two
days, and left blood behind him. That is to say, some old
man refused to permit Smith to wed his daughter. Smith got
mad and killed the old man, and then left his country for his
country's good. He got on board a lumber vessel about to
clear for California, in 1849, and, concealing himself, until the
vessel was three days at sea, made his appeal ance and begged
to be permitted to work his passage to the golden land. The

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 231

murder not having been heard of on board, Smith was quietly
and willingly disposed of in the forecastle.

As a sailor, however, Smith was a failure. He was insubor-
dinate, and in constant broils, and while rounding Cape Horn
knifed the second mate. As a consequence he made the
remainder of the voyage to Valparaiso in double irons. The
vessel dropped anchor in that great Chilian port at about dark,
and about midnight Smith, having slipped his irons, slipped
over the bow chains, dropped overboard, and swimming to the
shore boldly struck out for the interior, and stood not on the
order of his going till he reached Santiago, the capital, where
he readily found employment in a government foundry. Form-
ing a convenient connexion he lived happily until, coming home
one evening, he caught his mistress in the very act of
criminal infidelity. In a twinkling he stopped the wind of the
luckless wight who had violated the sanctity of his garden of
Eden, and then wrung the neck of the frail fair one as he
would have wrung the neck of a Maine goose, and, leaving the
two lovers to sleep the sleep that knows no waking, took up
his line of march for Valparaiso, only killing one man on the
road. He reached the port just in time to smuggle himself on
board a steamer bound from New York to San Francisco.

On his arrival he at once struck out for the mines, and
brought up at Rough and Ready, where he killed a gambler
who had cheated him, before he had been there a week. The
fellow beat him out of his money at monte at a gambling
house. Smith waited outside until the game closed, and when
the gambler came out he struck him on the head with a stone
and killed him instantly. He said thereafter three Mexican
gamblers beat him by cheating, and he waylaid them one at a
time and killed the whole trio. In the last he was discovered,
fled, and was pursued from camp to camp with "hue and cry,"
but succeeded in reaching San Francisco and > went over to
Marin island, then the penitentiary, where he found refuge,

232 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

obtaining employ as a guardsman. Who would seek for a
fugitive from justice among the guards of the State prison ?

How long Smith remained in the employ of the State is not
necessary to inquire. Suffice it to say that in 1852 he became
a first-class angel, remaining here about two and a half years,
and went away with Zerman. At Minatitlan Smi.h informed
me on his honor that he had never killed any one in Los
Angeles, notwithstanding, as he expressed it, he had " put the
light out of at least a dozen while in California. However,"
said he, "I once went for old Temple's scalp, and but for an
accident would have raised it, and made my pile to boot."

This is the way it was : Old John Temple used to bleed this
county at the rate of about $100.000 a year, money received
from his immense sales of cattle, all of which he would carry
to the City of Mexico for investment. Dave Brown, Smith
and another prominent person determined to waylay Temple
on his way to San Pedro, murder him if necessary, but without
fail to secure his bags of gold. Temple would start in the
morning about sunrise, and the arrangement was that Smith,
Brown & Co. would leave town during the night and lay in
wait in the high mustard down about Florence, stop Temple
and rob him, convey the cash to the river bed and bury it in
the water and sand, and wait and take their chances. For-
tunately or unfortunately, as the reader may choose to regard
it, about twilight on the eve of the contemplated robbery, Dave
accidentally let his revolver go off on the sidewalk in front of
the Bella Union and shot himself in the foot, a circumstance
well remembered by many pioneers. A lucky shot for old
John Temple, surely.

Temple was at one time the richest man in Mexico. He
almost owned the whole Mexican government; foreclosed a
mortgage on the Mint at the City of Mexico, and coined money
on his own account. He owned four hundred miles of sea-
coast territory above and below Acapulco, was a brother of the

REMINISCENCES OF 'A RANGER. 233

late F. P. F. Temple, of La Puente, and was the cutest monte
dealer that ever flipped a card for an angel to bet his pile on.

I will now go back to Mexico and finish up Smith. Our
gentle angels finished Brown before Smith left, as will be here-
after and in the proper place fully related. When the Zerman
prisoners were released in the City of Mexico, Smith, who was
an excellent mechanic, was employed, as before stated, in a
government foundry, where he formed the acquaintance of an
English expert, who inducted him into the mysteries of coining
money, and the partners were soon flush and bet their coin
freely at the monte banks. It was only on Sundays and saints'
days, however, when the foundry would be closed, that the
twain would steal in, fire up, melt their metal and mould a
supply of dollars. To the great honor of the saints, Smith and
his pard had plenty of time in which to ply their vocation,
only that the police were always vigilant to see that a proper
respect was shown each particular saint, and to arrest any one
who would profane the day by doing work. So on one occasion
the police discovered and arrested the two worthies who were
trying to turn an honest dollar, and on the following day they
were roundly fined by the irate alcalde, who honored the saints,
one and all. "Well," said Smith, with a grin, '-'we paid our
fines out of the money we had struck off that day, and had a
good stake to run on for a month or two."

Times got so hot for Smith at the capital that he lit out for
Vera Cruz, where the Mexican detectives shadowed him. So
he sailed for Minatitlan, where he started a shop and did work
for the mahogany cutters, but kept an eye open for an oppor-
tunity to "shove the queer." One evening in the soft tropical
moonlight in front of Jim Kawle's hotel in Minatitlan, while
listening to Smith's bloody adventures and talking about Los
Angeles, the Rangers, and of familiar persons, a portly looking
Mexican walked past us and into the bar room. " D — n him,"
said Smith, " I know him, and will put his light out in less

234 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

than a week." " Who is he?" said I, " Why," said.he, " he's
one of them City of Mexico detectives and he's after me. I'll
get him." Smith did get him in less than a week, by knocking
him on the head and throwing him in the river. The steamer
from Vera Cruz had arrived during the day on which the
portly Mexican had come as a passenger. On the return of the
steamer to Vera Cruz the author was a passenger, and saw no
more of our Los Angeles journeyman blacksmith or of the
mahogany cutters of the Coazacualcos. But in January, 1862,
I met Jim Kawle in New Orleans and talked of matters in
Minatitlan, and inquired for Smith. "Ah," said he, "two
days after you left he killed a great Mexican detective, was
arrested, taken to Vera Cruz, and shot at the castle of 'San
Juan de Uloa."

The reader will of course grieve after our lost angel, and
lament our bad luck in losing a fellow citizen who, had he been
spared us, might have become so conspicuously prominent.
This truthful historian begs the reader's pardon in carrying him
so far away, but why should so shining an example as the
gentle Smith be lost to posterity ?

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 235

CHAPTER XIX.

Revolution — The California Spaniard — His Patriotism — The Great Gringo-
Nation — John Raines— Guaclaloupe Sanchez — Organization of Patriots
— The Plaza Occupied " Viva la Rcpublica " and " Death to the
Gringos " — General Littleton to the Rescue — Raid on the Bella Union
Bar — Mayor Hodges in the Field — Firing on the Plaza — The Gringo
Phalanx Routed — The Mayor in a Bomb Proof — The Phalanx
Triumphant — The Killed and Wounded — Dona Maria, the Lady
Mayoress, in Peril — Littleton Relieves Her — The Last Outrage — The
Angels Redeemed— " All is Well that Ends Well."

California Spaniard was in the olden time an
over average Christian and good fellow, full of jovial
good humor, hospitable even to a fault, patriotic,
liberty -loving, and jealous of the integrity of his native land to
such degree as made him fly to arms and unfurl to the balmy
breeze the standard of revolution on the slightest possible pre-
text, and sometimes without any pretext whatever. In a past
chapter I gave a truthful account of the sanguinary rebellion of
the angels under Castro against the Mexican satrap, Michel-
torena, culminating in the grand battle of Providencia and the
improvident slaughter of that patriotic Mexican mule, the ex-
pulsion of the Mexican tyrant from the sacred soil of California
and the elevation of Don Pio Pico as the last of the domineering
Dons, to be soon thereafter succeeded by the anti-revolutionary
gringos. In those glorious old times before the coming of the
gringo, revolutions were of ordinary happening and generally
harmless. The soil of our angel land is fertile, naturally so.
The soil of this beautiful land was never fertilized to any great
extent by the blood of tyrants and their minions, slain by the

236 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER

irate sons of the soil in their resistance to the Mexican oppres-
sor. Ante-gringo revolutions in California were as frequent
and harmless as raids on hen-roosts in the sunny South at the
present writing. Still the olden-time Californian could no
more exist without his periodical revolution than he could
without his bull-fight, his game of montc, his horse-race, or his
gallos on St. John's day. The gringo nation is great, the
affirmative of which this military scribe is free to maintain on
horseback or on foot, with spear or pen, because he belongs to
that immaculate race himself ; but there is an old adage which
is as truthful as the writer hereof, and that is, that "the
gringo spoils all other peoples with whom he is brought in
contact."

The noble race of California Spaniards has greatly deterior-
ated by its association with the conquering gringo. The truth
is, " the gringo spoiled him." He isn't half the man he was in
the days of revolutions and rawhides. The author has hereto-
fore referred to the Jack Powers revolution in Santa Barbara,
and will hereafter relate the revolutionary effort of Juan Flores.
But this most truthful chapter will be devoted to John Raine's
revolution, which occurred in the city of angels in December,
1852. Times wer« lively ; money was most abundant ; monte
dealers and merchants were waxing rich ; the cattle market
was buoyant. Fandangos and fiddling was the order of the
day ; festivities throughout the land ran high ; everyone
seemed happy, everybody was over-prosperous, and everyone
ought to have been happy. The California Spaniard was the
most prosperous mortal on the footstool, and should have been
the happiest. He had everything his longing heart could
crave, except his revolution ; that was his dearest and most
sacred privilege, and the only one the generous gringo refused
to accord him. When the gringo planted his liberty-pole on
Fort Hill, he sealed the doom of revolution in California. Still
the noble Dons pined for a revolution, as the Jews hungered

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 237

for the flesh-pots of Egypt. Guadaloupe Sanchez, with a half-
dozen hot-headed followers, raised the standard of liberty
one beautiful summer's night in '52, occupied the plaza, fired
off their revolvers, gave the grito de libertad and muere
los gringos, got gloriously and patriotically drunk, trailed
their banner in the dust, and so ended that revolution. John
Raines was an untamed mustang, full of mischief, and up to
all kinds of deviltry. The angel city was full of idle, wild,
harem-scarem fellows, of the vagabond persuasion, who did
little else than play at billiards, buck at monte, kill time and
have a good time generally. No better material could have
been found anywhere, and John concluded to edify the longing
Spaniard with a revolution as would be a revolution.

So the bold leader put himself about organizing. Two
weeks were thus occupied. Two hundred men were enrolled.
The utmost secrecy was observed ; not a soul but the initiated
knew aught of the plot. Hodges was Mayor. The eventful
night arrived as they always do. At midnight the revolution
broke forth in all its fury. The plaza was occupied, and "Viva
la Eepublica y muere los gringos" burst forth on the midnight
air, rekindling the dormant fire that slumbered in the
patriotic bosom of the slumbering Dons, and carrying dismay
to the uninitiated and surprised Gringo awakened from his
sleep by this pandemonium let loose. In fifteen minutes fifty
indomitable gringos under Jim Littleton stood in defiant
phalanx in front of the Bella Union, determined to maintain
gringo supremacy, even if they sacrificed the last bar-keeper
and bottle in all angel-land. A detail was accordingly made
to raid the Bella Union bar, and another to hunt up the Mayor
to take command and oppose the uprising. In due time both
objects were accomplished, and wine flowed as wine had never
flowed before, and whisky was free. By this time the gringo
lenient was awake; the clatter "of cavalry resounded on
the midnight air as they dashed up and down upper Main

238 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

street. A hurried council of war resulted in the. conclusion
that the cabildo and the court house would be the first objects
of attack. So armed gringos were hastily thrown into those
places. The jail on the Hill was also occupied. Then the
Littleton phalanx, leaving a reserve at the junction- of Main
and Commercial, with a picket at Commercial and Los Angeles
streets moved bravely to the plaza, the Mayor marching
valiantly at the head of the column ; he however suggested
that Jim Littleton should be the commander in action, and
should be entitled to all the honors consequent on victory,
while he, the Mayor, would be present and sanction any and
all measures necessary to an effectual suppression of the revolu-
tion. Reaching the corner of the plaza where the Pico House
now stands, the Littleton-Gringo-Phalanx were received by a
scattering fusilade from all quarters of the plaza, with the
battle cry of the revolution: u Viva Mexico y mueran los
gringos," and a stentorian voice roared out " rodealos,
rodealos," anda "cavalleros!" (surround them! surround them !)
and the clatter of cavalry was heard going through Nigger
Alley like a tornado, which causes the General to order the
phalanx to fall back, which it did in quick time, as the ques-
tion was which would reach the Baker Block corner, first — the
rebel cavalry or the gringo phalanx. Intermediate between
the plaza and Arcadia street, stood at that day the first monu-
ment of gringo enterprise, a brick culvert, which ran diagonally
across the street and was about forty feet long, four feet wide at
the base, and forming an arch, which was just high enough to
admit a person in a low, stooping posture. Now that old cul-
vert was a most infernal nuisance, being frequented by vagabond
Indians as a place of convenience, which rendered the interior
thereof unpleasantly odorous. General Littleton, finding that
the cavalry would reach the objective point first, came to a sudden
halt at the culvert, and seizing the Mayor by the arm, said :
" Hodge, it's our only chance; get in. quick; we're cut off,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 239

sure." To hesitate was, as the Mayor thought, certain death,
so into the culvert went the chief gringo of this semi-gringo
city, hearing the ^honors of the great gringo nation on his hroad
back. His honor was safe, and the phalanx, dividing itself,
took position at either end of the Mayor's bomb-proof, and
opened a defiant fire on the exultant rebels, who now charged
them on all sides. The conflict was terrific ; the din of battle
was fearful. Above all could be heard the lion-like roar of
Jim Littleton as he urged the phalanx to stand their ground
and "Remember the Alamo," and let the last man die rather
than yield. The Mayor was safe. He was as snug as a bug
in a rug, and never a word did speak, until an immense gringo
cheer announced victory to the phalanx, and a few scattering
shots gave proof that the rebels had been repulsed. Then his
honor emerged from his place of refuge and rejoined the victori-
ous gringos with the inquiry, " How many are killed ? " "Are
we all right, Jim ?" Then the commander ordered the phalanx
to fall back on the reserve at Commercial street — an order easier
given than executed — as the wounded were so numerous that
the movement was consequently slow and painful. Several
were left dead, or apparently so, at the culvert, the Mayor sug-
gesting that "no further harm could befall the poor fellows."

Samuel Arbuckle's store at the corner of Commercial and
Main was the gringo headquarters, and the back rooms thereof
were converted into a hospital, whither the Mayor was con-
ducted. On entering all the horrors of war presented itself
to his terrified gaze. Surgeons with sleeves tucked up, bloody
bandages: wounded men, groaning in agony, lying around
everywhere, while every minute some poor fellow would be
brought in by his comrades in a desperate condition. The
doctors had their hands full.

Some one said to Doc. Jones, "The Mayor is wounded; why
•don't you attend to him ? " upon which said suggestion two
or three sympathetic attendants laid hold of his honor with

240 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

a view to removing his coat and vest, when all at once they
hold up their hands to the light and commence an examination
thereof, with exclamations of " P-e-w ! Great eternal polecat,
where has he been ? ISTo blood ! but what ? " Then " the
most useful man" put in, "Why, Hodge, what -does this
mean? It's awful." "It is that infernal culvert," responded
his honor. "Them d — d injans; I always wanted the Coun-
cil to abate that culvert as a nuisance, and by the holy poker,
if I live, and if we savo the city, I'll bet they don't use that
culvert for that purpose again. But it was a fortunate thing
for us to-night, sure." Then his honor bethought himself of
Dona Maria, the fair and frail sharer in the dignities and
profits of the Mayoralty. The lady Mayoress was in imminent
peril, and might fall into the hands of the rebels. Dona
Maria dwelt near the plaza (at present a fair dame of Los
Angeles street), and she must be rescued at all hazards; but
who would take the risk — the danger was great ; yet the
attempt must be made, Littleton called for volunteers, and
five heroes stepped forth from the phalanx ready to immo-
late themselves on the altar of chivalry; and with an assuring
word to his honor, the brave fellows, with Jim at their head,
set forth on their mission of gallantry. They were gone an
hour, during which time desultory firing, cheers, vivas and
carajos were heard all over the city, and the Mayor was in
awful suspense concerning the lady Mayoress. Every few
minutes some bleeding victim of the revolution would be
brought in, and the doctors had their hands fu,ll. It was now
near daylight and at last Jim Littleton came in with the lady
Mayoress, who was received with every demonstration of
delight by his honor, the Mayor, whose first inquiry to the
weeping lady was, "Ah, Querida mia, they have hurt you."
whereupon the lady turned bitterly upon Jim Littleton with
the exclamation of "Ah que sin verguenza/' (You shameless
vagabond.) Dona Maria had fallen a victim to the fury of the

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 241

revolution and the Mayor was as mad as a hornet. Daylight
dispels the sombre shadows of night. The orb of day gilds
the Eastern horizon. The verdants hills smile in beauty when
kissed by the morning sun. Peace reigns supreme in the
Angel City. The night of disorder is succeeded by the morn-
ing tranquility. The trembling sefiora peeps timidly forth
from her window expecting to see the prickly pear flag of Aztec
land floating from every adobe Avail in the redeemed city, but,
alas ! nothing of the kind is to be seen. Grave Dons and fright-
ened gringos appear on the streets to inquire for the dead, but
no dead are to be found, unless, perchance an over-patriotic
gringo was found dead drunk. No blood was to be seen any-
where. Was all this a dream ; certainly there was no reality
in it. The Mayor went to the culvert and found no blood,
notwitstanding when he retreated from that glorious battlefield
•only six hours ago the ground was covered with dead heroes.
Men whom he had seen under the surgeon's hands in the
agonies of mortal pain, now smilingly greeted him with,
" Hello ! Hodge, old boy, how goes it ? " Their recovery had
been miraculous. His honor would willingly believe it all to
be a nightmare only for the queer accident that had happened
to Maria, and he was certain there was no nightmare about that.

It was a sell, an out and out sell, gotten up by John
Raines and Jim Littleton to sell the town generally, to sell
the Mayor in particular, and to relieve the general monotony
of the California Spaniard, and gladden his heart with a first-
class revolution.

Revolutions are not revolutions without their usual concomi-
tant of outrages, and of course there must of necessity be
some kind of an outrage to give respectability to our present
one. So Jim Littleton, to carry out the simile, had perpetrated
the last outrage of revolutionists on Dona Maria, the lady
Mayoress of the City of Angels, which was all that was real in

the whole affair.
16

242 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XX.

Bull Fights — Romance of Spanish-American Conquest— Gran Fund on de
Toros — The Gran Toreador — Plaza dc Toros — The Debut of Don
Jesus — " The Bravest Man in the World " — A Furious Bull — A Des-
perate Encounter — The Lazadores, Picadores and Banclerilleros — The
Gran Toreador Gets a Raise— The Battle Over — The Gringo's Revenge.

A,HIS historical Ranger in his juvenile days and before
visiting this semi-Latin land, had been an ardent and
enthusiastic student of Spanish history, and was a
great admirer of the chivalry of the race, the high tide of whose .
civilization had, before the Mayflower was wedded to the salt
sea wave, penetrated to the very heart of what is now the
United States;:, of the marvelous achievements of the Great
Conquistador and his handful of followers, whose unparalleled
audacity led them into the very jaws of a powerful and cruel
despotism, there to assume the role of dictator, was so wonder-
ful that to my mind the words " Spanish Cavalier " meant all
that was brave, enterprising and chivalrous; of the deeds of
Vasco Nunez, Pizarro, and others of minor note in the sub-
jugation to the dominion of the cross, the vast empires of
Darien and Peru filled my mind with the highest possible
opinion of the descendants of those mighty adventurers; while
the insane wanderings of Ponce de Leon and ])e So to seemed to
give the only true romantic tinge to our own matter of fact
conquistorial history. So when the chronicler made his advent
into this old-time Spanish capital, this angel city, handed over
to the rule of the Saxon, he was prepared to admire anything
that had the glare and glitter of Mexico or of Spain, as well

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 243

the rodea, the annual execution of that ancient rapscallion
Judas Iscariot, the cock-pulling feats on St. John's Day, the
Maromas, the fandango, the sanguinary encounters between
bulls and bears, and more important than all, the bull fights,
wherein man, the image of his Creator, boldly enters the
gladiatorial arena to meet in mortal combat the noble lord of
the animal kingdom, the untamed bull. Therefore, soon after
my induction into angel society I was raised to the seventh
heaven of delight in beholding the announcement in largely
lettered placards, "Gran Funcion de Toros, el Domingo
proximo a las tres a la tarde;" (grand bull-fight on Sunday
next at 3 o'clock,) with a list of the renowned Dons who would
participate on that important occasion, with a great flourish
about a very brave and eminent Don bearing the name of
"Jesus," who was represented to be the most intrepid of all
the toreadores who had carved their names on the temple of
fame for heroic deeds done in the Plaza de toros of the City of
Mexico. This important announctment was made about mid-
week, and immediately thereafter active operations commenced
and a great fever of excitement possessed the angel mind,
gringo as well as native. Great speculation was indulged in
as to who the mighty hero bearing the Holy Karne could be,
and every stranger Don felt complimented when some knowing
one would suggest the possibility of his being the "gran
toreador" from "la capital de Mexico." On Saturday the
arena was complete — a fence built of green willow posts set
in the ground to which were lashed, with raw -hide thongs,
stout poles forming a circle about forty feet in diameter. On
one side elevated seats were arranged, one above the other, in
theatrical style, fur those who were to pay ; while the rabble
had the privilege of peeping through the poles without price.
At one end of this improvised dress circle, a canvas enclosure
was made for the accommodation of the toro and the toreador,
the lazadores, the banderilleros, the picadorcs, and the master

244 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

of the arena, in order that they might be obscured from vulgar
eyes until their grand entrance into the arena of blood and
battle. In order that the bull and bull-fighters might meet as
utter strangers, and on the theory that familiarity breeds con-
tempt, a rag petition divided the belligerents. On the right
flank of the dress circle are seated, on an elevated platform, the
musicians, who discourse Mexican national airs, while, to the
great disgust of the grand marshal, the gringos possess the
poles of the willow fence, smoke their cigars, and are all on
the tip-toe of excitement, and this truthful historian is carried
back in imagination to the geography pictures he used to gaze
at with such reverential awe in his school-boy days. " Now,"
thought I, " we are to behold a bull fight such as were formerly
seen in glorious Madrid," and my excitement knew no bounds.
The music ceases, and the herald proclaims the grand entry.
The canvas door is thrown open, and the lazadores, with gilt
and glitter, spangles and spatters, lance and pennon, mounted
on elegantly-caparisoned, high-mettled steeds, enter, followed by
the picadores a pie, and the banderilleros and the matador, all
radiant in green silk, tinsel and stripes. The brilliant outfit
are all, in glittering array, ranged before us, save and except
the "gran toreador" and the toro, which in rude Saxon means
Jesus and the bull. The music bursts forth in patriotic and
warlike strains, the sefioritas wave their handkerchiefs, and the
rabble cry "viva!" Again the herald waves his baton of
office, the music stops, the sefioritas cease from waving,
the rabble discontinue their vivas, and the gringos maintain
their grave demeanor, smoke away, and whittle on the green
poles. The herald now proclaims that " the greatest, most re-
nowned and famous bull fighter, either living or dead, the hero
of more than a thousand bloody fights, the champion of the
world, will now make his entrance before this august assem-
blage." Two ushers now divide the canvas door, and the music
don't play "Hark! the Conquering Hero Comes," but it plays

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 245

something of equal grandeur, and the "gran toreador," as
though disdaining the earth upon which he trod, enters the
arena, faces toward the sefioritas, places his right hand upon
his heart, makes a profound sala'am, and is greeted with a
shqwer of bouquets. The' gentlemen ushers respectfully pick
them up, bow to the sefioritas, bend the pregnant hinges of the
knee to Don Jesus, who haughtily makes the about face, bows
patronizingly to the gringos and the peons and pelados, and
speaks: " Soy valiente" (I am very brave); " tengo mucho
honor" (I have a great deal of honor) ; a que es de vivir sin
honor ? " (why should one live without honor ?) ; a es mejor a
morir valiente que vivir sin honor" (it is far better to die game
than to live with a taint upon one's honor). "I am the
bravest man in the world, of which you shall have due proof
when you see me encounter the most ferocious bull that could
be found on the thousand miles' expanse of California plain. I
am ready to conquer or die," and Don Jesus bowed to the
herald.

The two ushers now very carefully approach the bovine cor-
ner, and remove a barricade of rawhide ropes, the music again
bursts forth in martial strains, and the ferocious bull of the
California plains makes his debut, not with wild and flashing
eyes, distended nostrils, tossing head and high-waving tail, but
as gentle-looking, mild-visaged an old ox as ever tugged at a
creaking Mexican cart, with eyes as honest and sleepy as a
crocodile's, with head neither erect nor depressed, tail dangling
in an old-fashioned, ox-like way between his legs, and still
worse than all, the poor old fellow's head bore signs of the
recent lashings of a Mexican yoke, and his honest old horns
were sawed off so near his head that the blood slowly oozed and
trickled in honest indignation at the outrage. When this
tough veteran entered the arena the music played, the "Pon-
chada," the peons and the pelados yelled, the gringos grinned,
and the sefioritas looked disappointed. Don Jesus, to prove

246 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

bis valor, rushed in front of his disarmed adversary, and wav-
ing a red flag in his face, said tauntingly, " Ha, Toro ! " which
didn't disturb the ox in the least. Then a banderillero
manoeuvred around, and flung a rosette dart, called a ban-
derilla, into the old gent's flank, which didn't seem to discomfit
him, only being a gentle reminder of his old acquaintance 'the
goad. Another bariderilla strikes him in the other flank, and
one in the rump, and the old fellow looks around innocently,
as much as to say, "Weil, did I ever?" all of which time
" the bravest man in the world" flaunts his red flag in front of
the bull and yells " Toro ! " A lazador now makes a dash at
the bull, seizes him by the tail and sloughs him around, and a
banderilla is stuck into him, to which is attached a string of
firecrackers, and a brave picador valorously fires them, and
another picador bounces on his back, a^d Don Jesus kicks him
on the nose, at which act of daring the peons and pelados
" viva ! " and the poor old ox loses his patience and makes a
rush at "the bravest man," who runs and climbs over the
fence, and a lazador has the old boy by the hind leg with his
lazo, and another by the fore foot, and before the old ox can
tell what he is about they stretch him roughly upon his back,
and the banderilleros fill his body with rosette darts and fire-
crackers, and the old fellow is permitted to regain his feet, by
which time he is again confronted by the "bravest man" with
his red flag, and the banderilleros cover his flank and rear and
ply their cruel darts and crackers, and the bull makes another
dash at Don Jesus, who this time nimbly dodges the bull and
springs upon his back, at which the sefioritas scream with
delight, the peons and pelados yell themselves hoarse, the
drums roll and rattle, the fife screams, the horns toot, and the
flute and flageolette give forth sweet sounds of victory; the old
ox strikes a ga'lop, and the "bravest man" turns a back
somersault and gracefully alights on his feet, and again con-
fronts his bovine foe.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 247

. By this time the gringo part of the audience have become
friendly to the bull, so called, and somewhat disgusted at the
cruelty of his tormentors, and in English they discussed the
situation and conclude, at the first favorable opportunity, to
make a diversion in favor of the bull. Of course what they
said and proposed to do was wholly unknown to the Dons in
the arena, who did not understand English. So the next time
the honest and tormented old ox made a well-directed charge
on the "bravest man" and he attempted to climb over the
fence, Cy Lyon, who was seated thereon, gave the august, the
disdainful, the proud, the champion toreador, a well-directed
push with his foot, which he planted solid in the pit of Don
Jesus' stomach, which landed him fair and square on the gory
horns of the bovine hero, whose eyes now flashed livid fire of
rage, his nostrils dilated, emitting foam and blood, his tail
erect and waving, head so low that his nose touched the
ground, he looked the very incarnation of victory, and seemed
to throw all of his immense strength into one grand,' revengeful
toss of the head, and we all thought for sure that the grand
toreador was imitating the cow that jumped over the moon.
It was certainly the biggest raise that Mexican ever got in his
life. The going up was awful, but the coming down ! well,
Don Jesus, the champion bullfighter from " La Capital de
Mexico/' was a month recovering from the immensity of the
shock. It was said he suffered great damage, and it was over
a month before he could resume his duties of stewing carne,
making hash and slinging pots, for such was his every-day avoca-
tion, oh ! reader ! and when this painted and bespangled hero,
this champion bull-fighter from the City of Mexico, this gran
toreador, was divested of his tinsel and stripes, his spangles and
spatters, his red embroidered jacket, his green breeches and his
red hose, his jaunty cap, and his gorgeous parti-colored sash,
when his face was washed of the dust of the bull-pen, of the
blood that freely flowed from his eyes, nose and ears, and the

248 KEAI1NI8CENCES OF A BANGER.

thick coating of paint, this ass in lion's disguise turned out to
be John O. Wheeler's cook. When poor Jesus went up the
Lazadores made a rush for the infuriated ox, who was now a
formidable monster and eyed Jesus as he went up and coolly
waited for him to come down, and in a moment they had him
on the ground as harmless as a lamb, and so ended the "gran
funcion de toros;" and so ended my romantic idea of a Spanish
bull-fight, and so ended the glorious career of Don Jesus, the
gran toreador in the bull-pens of this ancient angel capital,
and so endeth this story. It is only fair to say, however, that
none of the respectable Spanish ladies and gentlemen of Los
Angeles patronized the bull-fights.

The gringos were sold, badly sold, beaten. A gringo is
willing to beat but is always averse to being beaten, and the
gringos determined to avenge themselves upon the Dons for
having so disappointed them in their anticipations of a grand
bull-fight, and soon the opportunity offered.

We had ti humorous genius among us, Frank Ball, a great
practical joker, who determined to sell the Dons in revenge
for their imposition in the -bull-fight. Frank accordingly
bought an old and used up mustang, had him. elaborately
blanketed and stabled at Pete Rohrer's, where Ferguson &
Rose's stables now are, and advertised in English and Spanish,
in all the newspapers and by great posters, that on a certain
day he would start from San Pedro and make a voyage to
Santa Catalina and back, on horseback; that he would ride
the great swimming horse Hippopotamus, a horse of a peculiar
Kanaka breed who had swam all the way from the Sandwich
Islands to San Francisco. That for the period of ten days
prior to this great marine-equine performance, the great swim-
ming horse could be seen in his stall and examined, in order
that people might satisfy themselves that in appearance Hippo-
potamus was the same as any other horse. Admission, 50 cents;
ladies,half price; children free. The Star, and Wheeler's paper

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 249

puffed Hippopotamus and lauded Frank Ball's great enterprise
in having procured this great amphibious curiosity for public
inspection and edification. The consequence of all this was
that there was a great run on Hippopotamus, and four-bit
pieces fell in plentiful profusion into Frank's coffers. The
Dons came in crowds to see this marine monster. Vaqueros
from the country examined him, the patrons of the bull-pen
planked down their coin, and the sell was a financial success.
But how was Ball to get out of his promise of making his
voyage to Santa Catalina, thirty miles and back? He got out
of it by having some one abduct Hippopotamus on the night
previous to the great swimming performance, made a great fuss
about it, pocketed the coin and avenged the gringos for having
been so sold on the bull fisht.

250 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XXI.

Bears and Bear Stories— Lassoing the Grizzly — Jim Bogg's Bear Fight-
Col. Wm. Butts— "The Southern California!! "—Butts and Wheeler-
Bulls' Encounter With a Grizzly — Andy Sublette and the Bear —
" Old ' Buck " — Andy's Last Fight— Victory and Death— Andy's
Funeral — Old Buck Dies from Grief— Queer Freak of an Old Grizzly
— Fred Staccr's Adventure — Bill Bradshaw and Nelse Williamson — A
Bad Wound.

THE time of which I write, early in the '5Qs, grizzly
bears were more plentiful in Southern California than
pigs ; they were, in fact, so numerous in certain locali-
ties, as Topango Malibu, La Laguna de Chico, Lopez and
other places, as to make the rearing of cattle utterly impossible.
Those ferocious brutes were the terror of the aboriginal tribes,
and dreaded by the California Spaniard, whose only weapon of
offensive warfare against them was the riata and lance, more
commonly called in gringo parlance the lazo.
• When burly bruin, in quest of came, would boldly emerge
from his lair in the fastnesses of the Sierra and make his ap-
pearance on the plain, he ran nine chances out of ten of losing
his scalp. When beset by three or four lazadores, he was most
generally overpowered and spitted, and this is the way in
which that most wonderful feat, lassoing a grizzly, was per-
formed by those most formidable men on horseback, whose
likes will never more be known — the California ranchero.
When seen on the open plain, a party of (he most intrepid,
cool-headed, well-mounted and expert lazadores surround him.
Bruin, finding himself 'corraled, seats himself upright on his
haunches, and takes the defensive position of the pugilist. A

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 251

lazador now approaches him and swings his riata. There must
be no mistake about it ; the bear must be caught by one of his
fore feet. That is the first thing to be done. Bear in mind,
reader, the monster may be of 2000 pounds weight, and if
caught around the body or neck, he takes hold of that riata
and draws in the horse and rider hand over hand, as easily as a
fisherman would draw in a catfish. The coil of the lazo
describes a rapid circle, whizz ! whirr ! Bruin's eyes wall from
side to side in the vain endeavor to know where the blow is
about to fall, and his two immense arms gyrate wildly, as
though he intended to make the right, left, front and rear
parry at one and the same time and motion. Whizz, whirr,
whirr, whip, goes the riata, and lord grizzly is caught by the
fore paw. In the twinkling of 'an eye, whhz, whirr, whip, goes
another riata, and the astonished monster is caught by the
other fore foot. He now angrily, and with gnashing teeth and
terrific growls, stands erect, and waltzes around like a grena-
dier ; but the next thing he knows, ivhizz, whirr, whirr, ivhip,
and a riata tightens on his hind foot, and before he can enter
his growling protest he is caught by his other hind foot, and is
tripped up and falls heavily upon his back, where he struggles
desperately for life ; but four well-trained horses, and four cool-
headed, fearless riders, with their terrible riatas are too much
for him, and in a few minutes the monster, with groans and
growls, with heaving chest and dilating eyes, surrenders at
discretion and lies on his back as helpless as a child. Where-
upon he is approached by one or two lookers on and is dis-
patched with their lances.

This is the way grizzly bears were captured and slain in the
olden California times, a dangerous performance surely, for
even now with needle guns and Winchester rifles it is a
most hazardous undertaking to attack a bear, and whomever
does it runs more risk of life and limb than he would ever have
ran at Shiloh or Antietam. I could relate many sanguinary

252 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

encounters with grizzly bears in early times and will now relate
a few that are more fixed in my mind.

The first of which I remember was that of Jim Boggs of
Sonoma county, in 1850. Jim was out one day with a com-
panion and espied a goodly-sized grizzly grazing along on the
green sward. Jim's partner, being somewhat dextrous in
throwing the lazo, caught the old boy around the body.
Whereupon the bear took a seat and quietly drew in the man
and horse, and most unfortunately the end of the riata was
tied to the saddle. The horse struggled to escape, the saddle
WHS turned, the rider fell off and was caught by the bear, and
by some means or other the horse freed himself from the
saddle and ran away. Boggs finding his companion in the
terrible toils of the monster drew his revolver and bravely
approached, placed the muzzle against the side of the bear's
head and fired. The bear at once released the man, who took
to his heels and left Jim and the bear to fight it out. Jim got
in one more shot and then the bear pounced upon him and
killed him, as the bear thought. Finding himself in the mon-
ster's clutches, Jim pretended to be lifeless, was only consider-
ably bitten and torn to pieces. The bear left him and started
away. Jim said, U I turned over a little, raised my head, and
there went the old bear, licking her chops, but just as I raised
my head she turned her eye and we looked each other square
in the face for an instant, when the bear turned around and
sprang upon me just as I've seen a cat spring upon a mouse.
It took my whole face in its mouth, and crushing the bones,
slung me around and shook me until I was senseless, and for
many days it was quite unnecesary for me to make believe dead,
because I was on the very doorstep of eternity." Jim was
horribly mangled, bones broken generally and the flesh in places
literally stripped from his limbs and body.

Colonel William Butts was, in '54 and '55, senior editor of
the Southern Californian, published under the firm name of

I

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 253

Butts & Wheeler — John O. Wheeler being the associate editor.
The paper was most ably conducted, and edited with a degree
.of ability rarely exceeded within the limits of the State. Butts
was an adopted son of the great Thomas H. Benton, and had
served as an officer in the regular army, a daring spirit who
always courted danger and sought adventure, was in '53 the
hero of a bear fight, the most remarkable of which I ever had
knowledge. It happened in San Luis Obispo county. I
believe it was at the ranch of Captain Wilson that a party was
made up to kill an immense grizzly who would pick up a full-
grown cow and walk away with her in his mouth, with as much
ease as a mastiff" would carry a rabbit. Butts was the only
one of the party whom I knew, and as he was the hero, is the
only one to be mentioned. The grizzly was found on the
edge of the plain near a chaparral, and was immediately
attacked by the hunters who lodged several balls in his body
with which he escaped. The party commenced to beat the
bush to get the bear out, and against the remonstrances of all
Butts followed the bear's trail into the thicket. The trail
soon entered the dry, gravelly bed of an arroyo and was easily
followed. Butts had followed the bear's track for about a half
mile when suddenly he lost it. Being confused he .stopped to
deliberate, and was standing within a few feet of the bear that
had lain down in the shade of a clump of chaparral on
the side of the arroyo. With a great growl it sprang
upon him so suddenly that he had no possible chance of
using his yeager, but as he went down under the ponde-
rous weight of the bear he got his hunting knife out of
its scabbard, and then the mortal strife commenced. Butts
declared that he never lost his presence of mind, but endeavored
to stab the bear in its vital parts, and that time after time he
thrust his eight-inch blade to the hilt in the bear's body as it
stood over him biting and tearing him with its claws. Butts
said "the last sensation I had was the brute dragging itself

254 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

over me, and "its entrails trailing across iuy face." A half
hour later the two combatants were found — the bear dead,
Butts torn into pieces and apparently so. After examination
showed that the bones of his face were so crushed that he was
disfigured for life ; the bones of his left arm and right leg
were fractured in several places ; some of his ribs were crushed
in, and his body and legs were literally cut into strips.

It turned out that the bear had been severely wounded by
the shots fired into it, but not mortally; that Butts' knife had
twice penetrated the lungs and once entered the heart, and that
an incision was made in its bowels nearly a foot long. A
litter was hastily constructed and poor Butts was carefully
carried to the ranqh, a surgeon sent for. and then some of the
party with some Indians and a Mexican cart and oxen went for
the bear which, after an immense amount of difficulty was
successfully transported to the ranch, skinned, cut into pieces,
and when weighed pulled down 2100 pounds avourdupois —
almost incredible to believe.

We had a bull and bear fight here in Los Angeles in '54.
The bear was a half-grown young fellow, and would have
weighed not exceeding 500 or 600 pounds. Colonel Butts went
to the arena to take a look at the combatants prior to the
fight. After examining the bear critically he turned away,
remarking, " Well, if I couldn't whip that bear in a rough-and-
tumble, I wouldn't consider myself anything in a bear fight."

Although possessed of considerable capital, and with a rare
editorial ability, the restless spirit of the gallant Butts must
find a more prolific field for 'adventure, than the dull times that
fell apace upon California in '55 and '56 afforded, so with a
legion of others of like spirit he went to Nicaragua to uphold
the flaunting flag of manifest destiny, and was there so
wounded and riddled with bullets that after his return to Ohio,
the place of his birth, he died thereof. The City of Angels

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 255

never had in her firmament a brighter star than the brave and
talented Butts.

In '54 Andy Sublette was mortally injured by a bear in one
of the canons near Santa Monica. I believe it was the Malibu,
commonly called Malaga, and preliminarily I must state who
Andy Sublette was, and then how he came to be killed. • There
were three brothers of the Sublette family, Bill, Andy, and the
other one's name I forget, Andy being the only one known to
me personally. The Sublettes were Rocky Mountain princes,
leaders among the mountaineers of the times anterior to Fre-
mont's explorations, the Mexican war and the golden crusade
to California. They were the founders of Fort Laramie, from
which stronghold they dictated terms of peace to the haughty
tribes of the Rocky Mountains, and declared war when war was
more to their fancy than peace. The Sublettes sold Laramie
to the American Fur Company, of which one of the Cheauteaus
of St. Louis was chief. That Company, in '48, I believe, sold
the fort to the United States, and it has since then been main-
tained as a military post. What memories of romance and
adventure cluster around that romantic and historic place, in
the spur of the great mountain chain ! Emerson Bennett, in
his inimitable pictures of Indian life, casts a halo of interest
around Laramie that is perfectly enchanting. It is a beautiful
and romantic spot situated on the west bank of the Laramie
fork of the Platte, a few miles from its confluence with the
latter stream. In June, '50, on our journey hither we stopped
at Laramie for a week and cut om* wagons up and made them
into pack-saddles, and traded our fine American horses to Kit
Carson for. Mexican mules preparatory to encountering the great
barrier. Well, as I before said, Andy Sublette was a Rocky
Mountain princes, and in addition thereto was a natural born
gentleman, with manners as refined, gentle and polished as
though he had never been beyond the confines of the most
cultivated society, and I may say almost the same of all that

256 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

old first-class Rocky Mountain Men, — they were peculiarly
sedate and quiet in their manners. Andy had only recovered
from severe injuries received in an encounter with a bear at
Elizabeth Lake when in company with Jim Thompson he went
on a bear hunt that was to be his last. Somehow or other he
became separated from the party and found a grizzly and shot
him, but before he could reload the fierce brute was upon him.
Poor Andy! it was his last fight, and gallantly did he main-
tain his former renown. His faithful dog, "old Buck," was
with him, and the two fought, Andy with his knife and old
Buck with the weapons furnished by nature, and gained the
victory over the mountain king. When Thompson found them
the bear lay dead, Andy was insensible and "old Buck," lascer-
ated in a shocking manner, was licking the blood from poor
Andy's face. Tenderly were the two, man and dog, brought to
the city and comfortably lodged and cared for in the Padilla
building, the present U. S. Hotel corner. For many days the
struggle between life and death was fierce. Sometimes Andy
would get the better of the grim destroyer only to be again
driven to the wall. Old Buck was as tenderly cared for as was
his gallant master, Jim Thompson, with his great, good heart,
watching night and day by the bedside of the two heroes,
while other friends stood ready to assist. Old Buck lay on a
nice pallet at the side of Andy's bed. When his master was
unconscious the old dog would almost break his heart with
piteous, subdued moaning, and when Andy in his delirium
would imagine himself still fighting the bear and would
say "seize him, Buck," "at him, old fellow;" "we'll get
him yet," and like expressions, old Buck would raise his lore-
paw on the side of the bed and would give a bewildering growl.
Finally death came out first best, as he always does, and poor
Andy was one of the first to be interred in the Fort Hill
cemetery. Old Buck rode in the wagon that took Andy to his
last resting place, he and Jim Thompson being chief mourners.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 257

About every gringo in the place turned out at Andy's funeral,
and it is safe to aver that there was not one person who left
that graveyard with tearless eyes, on account not of the
loss of a gallant man, a friend and Christian 'neighbor, but
for the doleful distress of poor old Buck, who utterly refused
to bb comforted and to be removed from his dead master's
grave. So there he was left to exhaust his grief, which we all
thought he would do in a little while. Twice, and sometimes
three times a day, Jim Thompson and other kind-hearted
friends would take Buck food and drink, and tried in vain to
induce him to leave the grave. The faithful old dog refused to
be comforted, refused to eat or drink, and on the third day he
died, and was buried at the feet of his dead friend and master.
Does the reader believe that dog had a soul worth saving, a
soul that was saved, or that when old Buck died of grief, when
his great heart was broken, that that was the end of the brave,
faithful, honest old dog ; or that when Gabriel sounds his
resurrection horn, that the spirit of Andy Sublette will be re-
united in a happy hunting ground with the spirit of his faith-
iul friend ? Quien sale ? We will see.

Bears are sometimes peculiar as well as dogs, and one of the
most peculiar and funny freaks of a bear I know of is the fol-
lowing, which is a well-known fact, and the infantile hero of
this bear story was a well-known and prominent man in our
country, quite recently deceased. Well, the story is to this
effect : A ranchero who dwelt near the mountain's base, near
our angel burg, had a wife and one child, a little boy about
three years old. The husband was absent one day, as was his
daily habit, looking after his herds, and the young wife, leaving
the little Vicente to manage his own affairs, went to the spring
to wash some clothes, being absent about an hour. When she
returned what was her alarm and horror to find an immense
grizzly playing pranks and cutting up rustics with the infantile

Vicente, the two seeming to be on terms of the most affection-
17

258 REMINISCENCES OF A UANGER.

ate intimacy. The old bear would lay on her back, and would
hold the little fellow up in her great paws, and would toss him
around and tenderly hug him, and the little Don would scream
with delight, so pleased he seemed to be with his new-found
friend. What was to be done was the absorbing question in
the mind of the poor mother, so the only thing she could do
was to pray to the saints to deliver her boy ; but the boy did
not want to be delivered, and the two newly-made and strange
acquaintances continued their gambols until near the close of
day, when Madame Osa, leaving little Vicente, who was fain to
follow, took up her line of march for her home in the Sierra.
The anxious mother lost no time in securing the youthful rene-
gade, who had conceived so strange an affection for a bear, and
who in later years was wont to speak of his mamma La Osa.

Fred Stacer, now a wealthy farmer in Indiana, when here in
early times was quite a boy in years, but one of the most cun-
ning woodsmen and formidable hunters I ever knew. Camp
wherever we might, Fred would sally forth with his old
Mississippi rifle, one that he had picked up on the gory field of
Buena Vista (the truth being that as a boy he had accom-
panied Gen. Joe Lane to Mexico in the capacity of Orderly),
and in a little while he would return with a supply of venison.
Fred was also a bear hunter, and had on more than one occa-
sion come out first best in a bear fight. One time a party of
us were encamped in one of the many mountain valleys of our
beautiful coast range, and Fred as usual had gone out with his
gun. In due course of time he came in, limping along in a
doleful plight, his clothes torn in tatters, his face, arms and
body sciatched and clawed in a fearful manner ; in fact he was
dreadfully used up, but as he said in response to our anxious
inquiries, "Boys, I'm pretty badly whipped, but not quite
done for." He then told us he had killed a young grizzly, and
that tne old bear mamma had got hold of him. He said he
was walking along down on one side of a steep descending ridge

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 259

or backbone, and suddenly came upon two young grizzlies, and
shot one of them dead. Hastily reloading his rifle he took
after the other, which ran along the mountain side in a horizon-
tal line, which soon brought it and also its pursuer to the
backbone or summit of the ridge. The cub had from the first
set up a terrific squalling, and it so happened that the old she
bear had been on the opposite side of the ridge when her first
cub was killed, and followed in the direction taken by the
frightened young survivor. The result was that the old she bear,
Fred Stacer and the cub all met on a converged line. When
the old bear saw Fred she ran back a few paces, stopped, looked
at him for a moment, and then commenced to walk deliberately
toward him. Fred knew he could hit her directly in the eye,
so he quietly awaited her approach until she got within ten
feet of him, when he pulled away, and lo ! for the first time his
gun missed fire. He had forgotten to put a cap on the tube.
As quick as a flash the old bear sprang upon him, and the two
commenced to roll down the steep mountain side, Fred strug-
gling to escape, and the bear plying teeth and toe-nail as best
she could. The further they went the more rapid became their
motion, and finally the two plunged over a perpendicular, rocky
precipice more than fifty feet high, and lodged in the top of a
live oak tree that grew at the bottom. Fortunately when they
struck the tough but yielding branches of the tree Fred Avas on
top. and lodged, and held on for dear life, while the bear went
crashing through to the bottom, and thus was the luckless and
lucky Nimrod delivered from the clutches of the mountain
monster. Leaving poor Fred in camp, we proceeded to the
place of encounter and found the dead cub, the rifle, and then
descended the rugged mountain side to the precipice and the
place where the old bear had fallen, but she was gone.

One more bear story and this subject will be disposed of.
In February, 1855, a party consisting of Aleck Beli, Zack
Moore, W. T. Clark. Nelse Williamson, the author, and that

260 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

famous ante-bellum pioneer and ex-officer of the Fremont
battalion, Bill Bradshaw, who gave name to the Bradshaw
District in Arizona, were prospecting for placer gold on the head
waters of Kern River. One day Bradshaw was out on a hunt,
had an encounter with and a narrow escape from a grizzly.
Bill was a very cool and brave fellow but excessively nervous,
and sustained in addition to considerable physical injury, a great
nervous shock. We were camped in a thicket and at about mid-
night were awakened by a shot and cry of distress from the brush.
Springing to our feet, to our horror we found that Bradshaw
had shot Williamson, who had quietly arisen and had retired a
few paces into the bushes. Bradshaw hearing him, sprang up,
rifle in hand, and having nothing but grizzly on his mind,
and imagining the noise in the bushes to proceed from a
bear fired, and shot poor Nelse through the body. We then
had to carry the wounded man on a mule litter more than one
hundred miles to Fort Tejon, where he received the first surg-
cal assistance, and a few months thereafter was brought to Los
Angeles, and lingered on the very door-step of eternity for two
or three years and finally recovered, being now, in 1881,
nearly eighty years of age, hale, hearty and happy, and except
a difficult limp and painful recollection, has nothing to remind
him of this my last bear story.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 261

CHAPTER XXII.

Parker H. French— His Grand Overland Expedition From San Antonio de
Bexar — Capture of the Expedition at El Paso — French turns Robber
and Brings Up in the Durango Prison — His Arm Amputated — Is a
Guest at the Bella Union — Goes to San Luis Obispo and Gets to be a
Senator — His Antics— Sells and Mortgages His Constituents' Ranches —
Turns Up in Nicaragua — Minister to Washington — Is Kicked Out of
Nicaragua and Turns Up Again a Prisoner of State in Fort Lafayette —
A Dangerous Confederate ^py.

iLOISTG about May, '53, a most remarkable character
hung up his hat at the Bella Union for a brief period
and then turned his face westward for the upper coun-
try, making a halt of sufficient length of time in San Luis
Obispo to have himself elected to the Legislature and to play
hob generally with the honest Obispoans. Had this most enter-
prising individual domiciliated himself in our terrestrial paradise
there is no telling to what distinction he might have attained.
However, he scorned to be an angel and with the angels dwell,
and as before stated honored the good people of San Luis with
his gringo presence. The ardent adventurer now brought
before the reader was the renowned Parker H. French, by
many known as one-armed French, and when he hung his hat
on the hotel peg of our venerable Bella Union, his said hat
and his very limited wardrobe generally had the musty srnell of
a Mexican prison on them. The old hat and damaged dry
goods soon went to the gutter, and Parker arrayed his well-
formed person in elegant vestments, and made a dashing hotel
figure daring his brief stay in Los Angeles.

Our hero was a gifted man, and one of his peculiar gifts
was his ability to beat tailors and dry goods men. Hotel

262 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

keepers were his special delight. Our Jew-merchants were
generous, jovial and jolly. Either Lazard, Morris, Kalisher
or Kohn would sell the most seedy newcomer a suit of raiment
and trust to his honor or good luck for their pay. These
guileless Hebrews must have cast a vast amount of bread
upon the waters in those, pioneer times, which I fear me will
never return to them. I am sure that whoever it was that
arrayed the ragged French in rare cloth and fine linen never
got so much as thank you for their pay, for be it known
Parker's rarest gift was ingratitude. So whenever a person
sold anything to him he, the vendor, sold himself at the same
time.

Notwithstanding, when Parker made his appearance in our
Angel City he was as penniless as a preacher, it cost a million
dollars to get him here, as well as having cost him his good
right hand, which he was so fain to use in appending other
men's names to his own paper. French was an Illinois man,
and in the spring of '49 made his appearance in San Antonio,
Texas, with a letter of credit from Howland & Aspinwall, of
New York, for $750,000, and at once set himself at work to
organize an overland passenger train to the land of gold. In a
space of time, so brief that the good people of Bexar had no
time to marvel at the marvellous manner which marked the
movements attending the organization, the hitching up, and
the hauling out of the most magnificent passenger train that
ever took its departure westward from that famous starting point.

One hundred splendid ambulances, to which were attached
six hundred beautiful mules, in splendid harness; in each am-
bulance were seated a driver and six passengers — each passenger
paying, in advance, the sum of two hundred and fifty dollars,
passage money to Sacramento City. Accompanying this beau-
tiful train were baggage and provision wagons, a .herd of extra
mules, and horses, with a corps of cooks, herders and hunters,
with Quartermaster, Commissary and Wagon Masters, mounted

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 263

men as outriders, flanquers, videttes and rear guards, with
pomp and parade, with flags flying, music and song, and to the
melody of

" Oh, Susanna, don't you cry for me,"

This brilliant train of ardent Argonauts clattered through the
narrow streets of San Antonio de Bexar, and made its first
day's march to Castroville, thence, ho ! for California ! Every-
thing went as merry as a marriage bell until the train arrived
at El Paso, when lo ! a military cavalry guard from Texas
overhauled the train, with orders to capture and detain the
property of the expedition, and arrest French and send him
back to San Antonio.

With his forged letter of credit, French had drawn on How-
land & Aspinwall for near a million of dollars. The assist-
ance of the Government had been evoked, hence the military
pursuit and order of arrest, as above set forth. Parker H. was
not to be caught napping — he was too sharp for that — he rallied
around him a few desperadoes, resisted the military, and suc-
ceeding in crossing the Rio Grande into Mexico with quite a
following of mounted men, and struck out for, and, without any
serious mishap, reached the City of Chihuahua, and there rested.

Many of the deluded passengers found their way on foot, and
as best they could, to San Diego and Los Angeles, others were
cruelly murdered by the Apaches in their vain endeavors to
accomplish that journey, while still many others managed to
get back to Texas, and thence found some other way of reaching
our golden shores, and a few discouraged, remained in New
Mexico, or drifted over into the Latin-Aztec Eepublic. In my
early mining experience I was in company with a Dr. Jackson,
a Mr. Wm. Hazeltine and "Yank" Bartlette, the latter now
residing in Arizona, and the only living person of whom I have
any knowledge who was of that rascally-romantic unfortunate
passenger expedition. From those gentlemen I learned the
facts as I now give them.

204 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

French was in Chihuahua out of money and could not raise
a dollar, and with his party undertook to rob his way to
Mazatlan, and the whole batch brought up in the ])urango
Mexican prison, where, in an attempt to overpower the guard,
French had his arm shattered at the elbow with a musket ball,
several of his comrades were killed in the attempt, all were
overpowered and French's arm was amputated in the prison.
Whatever became of those men I never knew; one Malcom was
released and reached Los Angeles in '52, and started the first
livery stable in the city at the place where now the north-east
corner of Central block, belonging to the Lanfranco family
stands. French regained his liberty — how I never knew — reahed
Los Angeles in '53, and when the Legislature met at Vallejo
the same year, Parker handed in his credentials as Senator and
so seated himself. He however gave little attention to matters
legislative, but gave a great deal of attention to selling and
mortgaging the ranchos of his constituents to San Francisco
money-lenders and speculators. He soon disappeared from
halls legislative, and from places speculative, and to the general
consternation of the credulous and confiding Obispoans, their
Senator, by forged powers of attorney, had sold and mortgaged
about every ranch in the county worth the trouble. Where
the Senator went to the devil only knew, and was never
more heard of till he turned up in this way. When Walker
was in Nicaragua in '56, a lake steamer with passengers from
New York to San Francisco in passing over Lake Nicaragua
was fired into from Fort San Carlos, then held by the enemies
of the Walker-Rivas government in Nicaragua. French was a
passenger, but whether bound fbr San Francisco, or had come
out to join Walker is of little moment ; suffice it to say the
steamer lay to and Parker raised a crowd of roughs who were
on board, took the boats, landed, and with their revolvers
stormed and captured the fort and forced the garrison to lay
down its arms and surrender at discretion; for which act of

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER 265

gallantry the Walker-Rivas Government sent him as " Envoy
Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to the Government
of Washington." With his Filibuster credentials this enterpris-
ing vagabond presented himself to Secretary Marcy, and with
the cool audacity of a Tallyrand demanded the recognition of
his Filibuster-Manifest-Destiny Government of Nicaragua.

Marcy, in language forcible but politely diplomatique, in-
formed Mr. Envoy that if he did not clear out and vamose the
capital, and hie himself to his own country, he would have him
handed over to the authorities as an offender against the laws
of the land. So Parker took the hint and vamosed the
ranch, cleared out, cut stick, and returned to Nicaragua,
threatening war and dire vengeance on perfidious Yankeedom.

When, on his return, the illustrious Envoy presented himself
at the National Palace in Nicaragua, his ardor was somewhat
cooled, and his threats of vengeance were modified, when
Walker, the great Filibuster chief, who was chagrined at
French's failure, took him roughly by the shoulders, faced him
about, and kicked him out of the country. Where he went to
thence we may, if we so desire, inquire of Old Nick, for surely
Parker belonged to him ; but in 'f>9 he played some pranks on
the people of Mississippi, which caused him to suddenly shake
the dust of that State from his fleeing feet, and hie him thence
for fields prolific. That was the last of Parker, so far as any
one knoweth or careth to know, except the following : After
the battle of Antietam, in which the author participated, and
after three campaigns in Virginia and one in Kentucky, Ten-
nessee and Mississippi, I went to New York City recruiting,
for recreation, pleasure, rest, and a general good time, so much
enjoyed by a soldier on leave. Well, I went down to see
Boston, and to visit my old and gallant scouting comrade in the
first campaign of the war, J. W. Gordon, Major of the llth
U. S. Regulars, and commanding Fort Warren. I also visited
Fort Lafayette, and saw the prisoners of state, among whom it

266

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

grieved me to find several well-known Californians ; and more
important than all, I found the Illinois store clerk, the Texas
forger of a million of dollars, the bandit in Mexico, the Bella
Union guest in Los Angeles, the San Louis Obispo Senator, the
Nicaragua "Envio Extraordinario y Ministro Plenipoten-
tiario," Parker H. French. I inquired how he came there, and
was informed that he had been arrested as a most dangerous
and enterprising spy of the Southern Confederacy. And so
endeth the author's knowledge of this remarkable character, and
so endeth this chapter, devoted to his transcendant and mis-
guided genius.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 267

CHAPTER XXIII.

John Glanton and His Chihuahua Scalp Hunters — Mustang Gray and
His Ranger Protege" — Glauton and His Rangers Reacli Chihuahua —
Treat With the Chihuahua Governor —Apache Scalps for Two Ounces
Each — Ben. Riddle and John Abel — The First Campaign— Grand Suc-
cess and Golden Reward — The Second ^ Campaign — A Mistake in
Scalps — Flight of the Rangers — Arrival at Jesus Maria — The Mexican
Flag "Outrage — The Second Flight — Arrival at Tucson — The Place
Besieged by Mangas Colorado — The Rangers Save the Place— Great
Joy of the Inhabitants — The Last Camp — Massacre — The Two Browns.

TELEGRAM.

PASO, September 23d, 1880 :— " Governor Tarrasas
offers a reward of $1,000 for the scalp of Victorio."

On reading the above it occurred to the mind of the
chronicler hereof that Chihuahua's Governor should use a care-
ful discrimination, and make sure of the identity of the scalp
referred to before he paid out his coin, or he might be cheated,
and get one other than that of the celebrated Victorio. Deal-
ing in scalps is a dangerous business, as the sequel will show.
Those who have read Jere Clemens' " Mustang Gray," will re-
member that the hero of that book (a real character) was a
noted Texas Ranger, that he had a boy protege, John Glanton
by name, whom he instructed in all the mysteries of Indian
fighting, hunting, trailing, lassoing mustangs, and scalping an
occasional Mexican, whose appearance failed to favorably impress
the two heroes. At fifteen years of age, John was one of the
most noted Rangers on the frontier; at sixteen he was Captain
of a Ranger Company, and as such served through the Mexican
war, and won great renown as a scout. Sometime during the
summer of '49, Glanton, at the head of a party of desperate

268 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

adventurers, left San Antonio overland for California, leaving
behind him a newly wedded wife, a most estimable and highly
cultured lady, of one of the best families of that romantic
frontier city. The expedition, in due course of time, arrived
in Chihuahua, and halted for recreation and pleasure. At this
time the Apaches were peculiarly bold in their raids, murdering
citizens and desolating villages and outlying ranches. They
had become so annoying that the Governor of the State had
offered two ounces ($32) for each and every Apache seal}) taken
bj any one whomsoever.

Glanton and his party proposed ji campaign, but had not the
necessary means of procuring supplies. At this juncture Ben-
jamin Riddle, a merchant and American Consul, and John Abel,
an American resident, patriotically supplied the cash ($2,500)
on the venture, and being thus supplied with the sinews of war,
Glanton lost no time in preparations, and was soon on the war-
path. The campaign was brief, bloody and brilliant, and pro-
ductive of a bountiful supply of scalps.

The Apache warriors, accustomed to cope with the unwieldy,
half- starved, ill-paid and poorly armed Mexican troops, whom,
if unable to whip, they could always elude by their celerity of
movement, were taken completely by surprise by this new foe,
who carried a pair of six-shooting pistols of that terrible old
Texas pattern in their holsters, and a navy at their belt, their
only arms, except the bowie. Well mounted, thoroughly trained
in the arts of Indian warfare, of such esprit du corps as led
every man to do his utmost to excel his comrades in the carni-
val of blood, Glanton and his Rangers made an easy campaign
and a brilliant success.

Returning to Chihuahua they were publicly received at the
Governor's palace, marched under triumphal arches, delivered
their scalps to the government agent, received two doubloons
for each scalp, were feasted, feted and made the lions of the
town in that gay Mexican capital. Fandangos, gambling and

REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER. 269

carousing succeeded for the month following, and the restive
Hangers were ready for another campaign. So confident had
the authorities become that they gratuitously furnished sup-
plies for the second campaign, and the scalp-hunters were again
on the war-path. This second campaign was more brief and
productive than the first, and the good citizens of Chihuahua
congratulated themselves, leturned thanks to the saints, feasted
the Rangers, and believed the period for exterminating los
barbaros had finally come. Shortly after the second campaign
it was whispered around that Mexican rancheros had been
killed and scalped by foes other than the Apaches. Matters
became dangerously suspicious, and the Rangers were on the
alert.

The trouble with the authorities of Chihuahua was the diffi-
culty of distinguishing between the scalp of an Apache and
that of a Mexican. The Rangers who remembered the Alamo,
Goliad, and other places of Mexican outrage and blood, hated
the Mexican more than they did the Apache, and, as with
them, it was a question of dollars and cents, and not of either
love or patriotism, had found it more convenient and less
hazardous to raise the hair of a Mexican than that of an
Apache, and such was the product of the second campaign.

The Mexicans are a gentle people, and have more virtue
than the "Barbaras del Norte," — which means us blue-blooded
Americans — ever gave them credit for. They are not an excit-
able people, and as a people are hard to raise ; but when once
raised, as they were on the memorable cinco de Mayo, they
are more irresistible than the hurricane or the piercing norther
that sweeps their favored land. Once raised they are a fury.
As a people they were not raised against the American inva-
sion of 1846. As a people they were raised against the French
and Austrians in '61 -'67, and astonished the world with their
deeds of devotion and of heroism.

When Glanton and his Rangers heard the murmur of

270 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGEH.

the coming storm, they, dissembling innocence, prepared to
escape it and flee the wrath to come, that is to say they quietly,
and in the hour when honest people seek their pillow and
thieves do go abroad, saddled their well-fed chargers and cut
stick for the shores of the western ocean.

Pursuit was organized, but too late ; the bloody scalpers had
escaped. They had secured safety by their well-timed depart-
ure and the fleetness of their horses.

The next we hear of Glanton and his desperate band is at
the mining town of Jesus Maria, in the northeastern part of
Sonora, where Messrs. W. T. B. Sanford, afterward of Los
Angeles, and Frank Carroll, he who kept the whisky mill in
the priest's cottage residence at S.m Gabriel, were the only
American traders. The Glanton party held high carnival
during their short tarry at this obscure Mexican village, which
the simple minded poblanos bore with their usual patience
until Glanton perpetrated the last outrage, which raised a
second storm, from which the festive fellows were again glad to
escape by taking to their heels and plying spur. John Glanton
rode into the quartel, hauled down the Mexican flag, tied it to
a mule's tail, lashed the mule into fury and turned it loose in
the town. The Rangers escaped the fury of the outraged
populace, so did Sanford and Carroll; but the two latter
escaped on foot, leaving behind them, to the fury of the mob,
their stores, accumulations of hard years of toil and danger,
and barely got away with their lives. Arriving at Tucson, the
Rangers found the place besieged by the renowned Apache
chief, Mangas Colorado, the place being defended by a handful
of frightened Mexican soldiers, a few old men and the boys,
the able-bodied men having gone in a body to the new Ml
Dorado in California.

The Rangers rode through the Apaches into the beleaguered
town and joined its frightened defenders. Mangas Colouuli.
then sounded a parley, and with seveial of his chiefs met

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 271

Glanton under some cotton-wood trees, at the little cienega
east of, and just outside the town.

The great chief — and the Apaches never had a greater than
Mangas — expressed his surprise at the Americans assisting
their enemies, the Mexicans, and fighing against those whom
they should treat as friends and allies. Glanton, however,
informed him that Americans always defended the weak, and
that unless the arrogant chief and his barbarous horde should
depart before sunrise the following day, the Americans would
turn loose their "saddles" on them, meaning in the expressive
Apache dialect their holster pistols, a something the Mexican
cavalry never carried. Mangas said he would not fight his
amigos, the Americans, but proposed that if permitted to
slaughter seven bullocks to be furnished by the Mexicans, and
feast his warriors thereon, in the Plaza of Tucson, and to drink
mescal himself with the American chief, while his warriors
were so feasting he would depart in peace. He said he did all
he could to restrain his braves from killing Mexicans, as a
general thing, as contrary to his policy; "For," said he, "if
we kill off the Mexicans, who will raise cattle and horses for
us ? " The proposed plan was agreed to and the programme
carried out to the letter, the Rangers preserving an armed
neutrality in the meantime, after which Mangas Colorado,
which means Red Mantle, quietly withdrew his barbarians and
departed. Then came another carnival of joy. The grateful
Tucsonians plied the Rangers with every comfort and delicacy
that their poor town afforded, refused them nothing, and the
old men wept and the women wailed when their chivalric
deliverers departed. This was the last act of American man-
hood performed by that brave band of abandoned men.

Arriving at Yuma, they found a^'solitary American, who
kept a ferry-boat, and an immense number of Indians, camped
at and near the crossing. The poor ferryman, after crossing

272 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the party over, was murdered by some of the band, because he
persisted in his denial of having aguardiente or mescal.

Dave and Charley Brown, the two survivors of Glanton's
band, informed the chronicler of the termination of this bloody
ride. The party camped on a grassy flat on the west side of
the river, just below the crossing, and quietly passed the night.
Early in the morning the camp was astir preparatory to resum-
ing their line of march over the great desert.

The two Browns had, at early dawn, gone to the ferry-boat
with camp-kettles to procure water with which to cook break-
fast. While they were at the river the Ranger's camp was
secretly surrounded by the Yurua Indians, under old Pasqual,
a venerated chief of to-day, who, to avenge the murder of their
friend, the ferryman, massacred the whole party, save only
Dave and Charley, as before stated. When the camp was at-
tacked they, with well-timed judgment, quietly boarded the
ferry-boat, shoved into the stream, and floated down the river
wholly unobserved by the Indians, who supposed they had
killed the whole party. After descending the stream a few
miles, the two survivors landed, filled their camp-kettles with
water, and started westward across the desert, and after un-
paralleled suffering arrived at San Diego, in a condition little
better than walking skeletons ; and such is the history of John
Glanton and his Chihuahua scalp-hunters, and such was their
deplorable end.

The two Browns were not of kin, Dave being a red-headed,
good-natured American, while Charley was a quarter-blood
Cherokee. Dave was hung at Los Angeles in 1854, by an
irate mob of California Mexicans, most of whom were his
personal friends, and hung him only in vindication of principle.
That is to say, the Americans of the Angel city were in the
habit of amusing themselves by hanging some luckless Mexi-
can, and the Mexicans wished to show that they could play at

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 273

the same game, and so seized on poor Dave as a fit subject for
demonstration, apologized for the liberty they were taking with
him, which Dave laughingly accepted, and was then swung up.
Dave had always lived the life of an unprincipled fellow, he
died in vindication of a principle, that is, to show that the
native Californians knew how to hang a man in the most
approved gringo fashion.

The other Brown also fell a victim to principle. He went to
Nicaragua under the banner of manifest destiny, and died in
vindication of the principles thereof.

Poor Dave set a most beautiful example to the young people
who witnessed his interesting taking off. He said he had com-
mitted a great many crimes, but not of sufficient magnitude to
deserve hanging. The only great crime he had ever seriously
contemplated was running for Councilman of our pure and
lovely municipality, and should he have done so, and been
elected, and have served, then "I would have felt that I deserved
death ;" but fortunately, said Dave, in going into the presence
of the great Judge, I can at least claim that I was never either
Mayor, or member of the Los Angeles City Council. Alas! poor
Dave, his crimes were many, but these last mentioned were not
charged up against him in the "kingdom come."

Some years ago the writer was in San Antonio, where he
frequently met a pale, sorrowful-looking, elderly lady, accom-
panied by a younger one, the latter very beautiful, both in deep
mourning, one the widow, the other the daughter of the reckless
Olanton, the Chihuahua scalp-hunter.

18

274 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XXIV.

McFarlaud — The Election of '53 — Jurupa — Agua Mansa Again — Sharp
Skirmishing for Votes— Rubideaux — "Can a Nigger Vole in Califor-
nia?" — He Votes — The Mormon Stockade — Bishop Crosby's Hotel —
Cook — One Vote for \Valdo-Quile a Skirmish — Alcalde Brown — Mor-
mon Justice — Pegleg Smith — His Camp in the Rocky Mountains— He
Goes to the Spanish Country for Horses — Raid on Los Angeles Ranches
:— Jim Beckworth — The Gringos Block the Game.

ONE of the early chapters of these most reliable
reminiscences mention was made of McFarland and his
connection with J. G. Downey in the drug store, then
the only one in the Angel city, and as I have a story to tell
in which Mac played a part, it will be in place to inform
the reader who and what our present hero was. Doctor J. P.
McFarland came from Tennessee in '49, and after one year
of roughing in the mines, came here and formed a partnership
with John G. Downey (the honored ex-Governor of Califor-
nia), who had preceded him by a half year or more. McFar-
land was a graduate of Jefferson College, a perfect specimen
of the American backwoods gentleman in physical appearance,
manners and general get up ; in fact what we call a first rate
fellow, and a politician withal. In '52 we sent Mac to our
ambulatory capital as Representative, and in '53 we promoted
him to the high dignity of Senator, and he might have gone
higher but for having introduced a bill that would have been
productive of much good, and was in reality a step in the
right direction, notwithstanding it was a rear step in our
onward march of civilization. As before stated, in the years
referred to there were thousands of Mission Indians in South-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 275

era California who stood in the ante-room of ruin. To save
them, and to make them useful to the country, in place of
becoming vagrants, McFarland introduced a bill in the Senate
to have all the young Indians apprenticed, the boys until they
were twenty-one and the girls eighteen years of age. The bill in
its general provisions was substantially the same as the present
law of apprentices, but unfortunately for the bill and its
author it contained the word Indian, when lo ! a torrent of
newspaper wrath was hurled at the bill and showered on the
head of poor Mac, which made him feel that the most unfor-
tunate day of his life was that which made him a Senator.
"McFarland's peon bill," so designated, was made to appear
'•'the most glaring, bare-faced and outrageous attempt ta
engraft the barbarous peon laws of Mexico on our free insti-
tutions." Mac served his time out in the Senate, came home
and attended to his private business. The Indians, boys and
girls, became vagabonds and our free institutions and John
Brown's soul go marching on and McFarland is an honored
and wealthy resident of his native State, and if not reminded
by these reminiscences of the fate of the Mission Indians, may
have forgotten all about them.

In '53, when Mac was a candidate, and when Los Angeles
county included San Bernardino, he invited the author to ac-
company him to Jurupa, Agua Mansa and San Bernardino on
an electioneering tour, which said invitation being duly
accepted, the two of us, well mounted, set out, making the
hospitable house of Col. Williams, at Chino, our first stopping-
place. From thence we proceeded to Jurupa, where we arrived
the day preceding the election. Then it was that Mac informed
me that he had a little precinct staked out that required hi&
personal attendance ; that the *' most useful man," having so
admirably succeeded at the presidential election of the preced-
ing year, he felt the precinct well worthy of his individual
attention, and that he had conciliated old Louis Rubideaux r

276 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

and depended on me to enlist Lieut. Smith, of the Jurupa
military post, to go . with me to look out for his interests in
the then Mormon stockade camp at San Bernardino. With
these dispositions we retired for the night, and went to sleep
listening to a lecture from Rubideaux on his Anglo-Norman
ancestry, their domiciliation in the Rocky Mountains, the
exploits of mountain men in Indian righting, of Bridger, of
Carson, G-odey, Sublettes, of Jim Beckworth, and of Pegleg
Smith. I may, in the course of this history, repeat what I
remember of the Anglo-Norman-Rocky-Mountain-American
lecture, and the part of it referring to old Pegleg in particular,
for the reason that I had three years theretofore the distin-
'guished honor of enjoying the hospitality of the renowned
Pegleg in his Rocky Mountain camp. When old Louis finished
his lecture, his bottle and pipe I never knew, but morning
came, and with it election day, and in due time the Senatorial
aspirant, Lieut Smith, and myself, with prancing steeds and
gingling spurs, clattered into the plaza of Agua Mansa, where
the polls had already been opened, but as yet voting had not
commenced. Mac's opponent was alive as to the Agua Mansa
vote, and had his emissaries on the field, and the level-headed
McFarland saw at a glance that whatever vantage he gained
would be at the price of hard fighting. Friar Juan, learning
wisdom from his experience with the "most useful man,"
declined expressing his preference for either Bigler, the Demo-
cratic candidate for Governor, or for Waldo, his Whig oppo-
nent. Neither would he favor my Senatorial friend ; in fact,
like the shoemaker when called on to become a candidate for a
seat in the House of Commons, said he thought he had better
let politics alone, and " stick to his last." So hastily dispatch-
ing a courier to hurry up Don Louis, McFarland and his hench-
men commenced skirmishing for votes, his opponents .in like
manner being out in full force, horse, foot and quartermaster's
men. The skirmish lines soon became engaged, and such a

REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER. 277

scramble for votes, or for anything else, was never before known
in that veritable Arcadia. Drowsy Dons were aroused from
their morning slumbers, and given to understand that unless
they hurried to the polls and voted, their liberty and religion
would not only be jeopardized, but would certainly be lost.
Laborers up to their knees in water, irrigating garden and field,
would be captured and brought up with round turns, and in-
formed that it was a serious offence against the new dispensa-
tion to fail to vote ; and in spite of the porques and quien
sales, Agon Mansa, in the matter of patriotic voting, outdid
herself, more votes being polled in that superlatively honest
town than the whole number of the population, men, women
and children.

At about seven or eight o'clock in the morning a contest
opened at the polls that threatened, at one time, serious compli-
cations . McFarland and myself were standing near by, when
Lieutenant Smith called out to McFarland, " Say, Mac; can a
nigger vote in California?" " No, certainly not," was the
quick response. "All right," said Smith, "I've challenged
this fellow's vote." Then Mac bethinking himself that possibly
in his hasty, hot Southern blood he had, may be, lost a vote,
said to me, " B'ell, go quick, and in some way or other see who
he is voting for." So, by a dexterous manoeuvre I succeeded
in taking the colored patriot to one side and discovered that he
was voting for McFarland, so informing him that it was " all
right," Mac came to the front and told Smith that on second
thought he had come to the conclusion that California being a
free State he thought colored persons entitled to the elective
franchise, and thought the challenge should be withdrawn.
"No," Smith said, "I am a Virginian, sir, and I have voted,
sir, at this polls, sir. and I would rather die, sir. than to vote,
sir, at the same polls, sir, with a nigger, sir. If I hadn't voted,
sir, it would be all right, sir; but as it is ; sir, I'll be d — d, sir,
if this nigger shall vote, sir." Here was a dilemma for poor

278 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Mac; the nigger had his name on his ticket, and that vote must
he polled at whatever cost. On the other hand Lieutenant
Smith was working- for Mac, and was held in high esteem in
San Bernardino by Lyinan, Rich, and John Brown the Alcalde,
the leading men of the settlement, so it would not do to offend
Smith. So having arranged that the challenge should stand in
abeyance for awhile, Smith, myself and Mac adjourned to old
Truxillo's casa where the sefiora had, by this time and by pre-
arrangement, prepared a most inviting breakfast, and I do say
and will ever maintain that in getting up substantial, appetiz-
ing breakfasts the Mexican women are superlative. Smith
was a ladies' man as well as a warrior, spoke Spanish quite well,
and soon became involved in pleasant converse with the seiiori-
tas then and there being, and with all dispatch Mac and I dis-
patched our breakfast, and leaving Smith we hied ourselves to
the polling place. " Now we'll vote our nigger without Smith
knowing it," said Mac. On our arrival Mac addressed himself
to the man of color, when it was found that he could not speak
one word of English. " Why,'' said Mac. " this man is not a
nigger, he is a Mexican, and of course entitled to the elective
franchise." The man of color referred to was about six feet
high, as straight as an arrow, and as black as a polished boot,
with hair peculiarly kinky. He was elegantly dressed in
extreme ranchero style, and was in all reality a decent-looking,
well-mannered man. Now the question of his voting was
brought up, and the judges who were all Mexicans, with a
borrowed Quartermaster's-man for clerk, were requested by
Mac to enquire of his birth, nationality and previous condition.
He answered that he was a Mexican, had always been a
Mexican, that his mother was a Mexican, that his father was a
— quien sabe? he could say positively that when the gringos got
California all of the Mexicans becatne Americans, and of
course he like all the rest, was an American, and as such
claimed all the privileges, that of voting as well; that he

REMINISCENCES OF A *RANGER. 279

knew the law, and by the law he would live and die; he said he
•was a patriot, and so said Mac — so affirmed the judges, and to
which every one assented — and the man of color voted, and
Smith was saved the mortification of knowing it, as I hurriedly
returned to the Truxillo house, and tearing Smith away we
started for San Bernardino, arriving before noon and in time to
get a good dinner at Bishop Crosby's hotel..

We found at San Bernardino such interest manifested in the
election as amounted almost to an excitement, and at dinner I
found the cause thereof to be that William Waldo, the Whig
candidate for Governor, was reputed, among the Mormons, to
have belonged to the Missouri mob that murdered Joe Smith,
and a bitter aversion to him, and a marked preference for Bigler,
was the general theme of conversation. I ventured to remark
that they were mistaken, that I understood Waldo was not a
tc Pike " at all, and that he was, anyway, sure to be elected.
" He will not get a vote in San Bernardino," said Cook, one of
the dinner-table party. " He is sure to get one vote," said I,
" for I will go straight to the polls and vote for him, as soon as
I've finished my dinner." " I'll whip you, if you do," said
Cook. " I think not," said I, and my partizan blood being
up, I got up from my half-finished dinner, went to the polls,
and cast the only Whig vote polled at that election in San
Bernardino. Getting back to Bishop Crosby's, Smith informed
me that Cook, who was an ugly fellow, was bent on having a
difficulty with me, and that as he wished to have a little repair-
ing done on his saddle, we would go to the saddler shop first, and
then he would see some of the Mormon officials, and have the
quarrelsome Cook put under restraint. Accordingly we went
to the saddler shop, which had two rooms — one a front room,
where the work was exposed for sale, and a rear one for a work-
shop. Smith went into the rear room with his saddle, and I
took a seat in the front. In a moment in come Cook, with a long,
old fashioned rifle, and, half raising it, angrily said: " Did you,

280 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

sir, vote for William Waldo?" addressing me. Those who
know the author, never accused him of either patience or inde-
cision, so my answer was to sieze Cook's gun, wrest it from
him and break it over his shoulder, and then light into him with
the barrel. In a moment Smith and the saddler were promptly
at hand, and restored peace, and Cook took his departure, and
we all thought the affair was at an end. Not so, however. In
a short time Cook returned with Cliff, the Mormon Sheriff,
who, with a warrant sworn out by Cook, arrested and carried
me before Alcalde Brown. Now, be it known that the said
Brown was an old mountaineer, and, like all of that class of
men, was full of a generous manhood, love of fair play, and
was, withal, a high-toned, honorable man; and when I waa
called upon to explain why and wherefore Cook's gun had been
so broken, Smith, the saddler, and Bishop Crosby came forward
and stated the case. Whereupon Alcalde Brown lectured Cook
severely and fined him $50, for having been in the first place
the aggressor. He then apologized, in behalf of the people of
San Bernardino, and said: "Although, young man, the Mor-
mons here are, to a man, opposed to Waldo in this election, we
are, nevertheless, American citizens, and not only claim the
right to vote as we see fit, but to maintain that right in behalf
of others who differ from us. We also claim to be a hospitable
people, and I make this example of Cook so as to deter others
from like treatment of any stranger who may in the future
visit us." I afterward became well acquainted with many of
our Mormon neighbors and was on several raids with them,
and found them to be of the very best fellows I ever had any-
thing to do with, and when in 1859 the majority of the Mor-
mon population in San Bernardino foolishly obeyed the order
of Brigham Young, abandoned their homes and returned to
Salt Lake, Southern California lost the most active, energetic
and enterprising part of the population contained within our
borders. I have a very pleasant recollection of the early Mor-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 281

mon settlers of our beautiful southern sister. When the vote
was counted in San Bernardino it was found that Waldo had
received one vote, upon which President Lyman, who was pres--
ent, laughingly remarked, "Well, sure enough, Cook's man
voted for Waldo." The vote was duly returned and I relate this
reminiscence only to show the fairness, the honesty and the
generous feeling then prevailing among our Mormon neighbors
and as a set-off to the many stories told, true or false, of their
barbarous-like doings in the great Mormon capital 1 , and so 1
strangely in contrast with above related. The result of that
election was of course in favor of "/, John Bigler" McFarlancl
carrying the two counties of Los Angeles and San Diego by a
very handsome majority, was triumphantly elected and was all !
in all a most superior man, and his bill concerning our Mission'
Indian boys and girls was one of the most beneficent Indian
measures ever proposed. But revolutions never go backwards,
and Mac's measure and the way it was received so disgusted
him with politics that he threw up the business entirely and
retired to the cooling shades of private life.

Pegleg Smith was a Rocky Mountain man of great renown
in his time, and ranked high as a leader, not of that high type
of mountain honor and chivalry as pertained to the Sublettes,,
Carson, Bridger and others of that standard of excellence, but
rather of the Indian freebooting class, as Jim Beckworth and
others of that ilk of whom I have heard, but whose names I
cannot now recall. Pegleg was not a trader, neither was he
in the strict sense of the word a trapper, but was a trafficker
among the Indians in horses, generally having a large supply
on hand, and would at any time join a war party of one tribe
to war upon another, with an agreement to take a certain pro-
rata of the captured horses in payment for his valuable services.
It was on one of these Rocky Mountain Indian forays that
he lost his leg, which was amputated below the knee by an
Indian surgeon, under the direction qf Pegleg himself, the

282 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

only surgical instruments used being a hunting knife and a
small Indian or key-hole saw. The loss of his ambulatory mem-
ber did not, however, incapacitate this hardy hero for war and
raiding, but on the contrary greatly added to his prestige, and
it was, I think, as related to me by Colonel Williams, Rubi-
deaux and others, in 1839 or '40, that he planned and carried
into operation the grandest and most successful horse-stealing
expedition that ever crossed the Sierra Nevada and raided
Our angel land. In, 1850 the chronicler hereof in crossing the
•continent halted at Pegleg's camp, at the Soda and Steamboat
Springs on Bear river, and found the old fellow in the zenith
of happiness and prosperity. He was in the undisputed owner-
ship of hundreds of most beautiful Spanish horses, so called at
the time — in this history designated as mustangs, and by the
:gringos commonly called broncos. Now the truth is that a
bottle of whisky or a pound of powder was the price of a
ihorse in Pegleg's camp, and notwithstanding whisky was scarce
and powder reasonably plenty among westward bound gold-
hunters, Pegleg found ready sale for as many horses as he
could spare, anxl himself, his squaws and his Indian retainers
'kept gloriously drunk, and were as happy as braves' are sup-
iposed to be wh?n they reach the happy hunting grounds.

In answer to the question as to how he came to have so
"many horses, he said, " Oh ! I went down into the Spanish
•country and got them." "What did they cost you ?" we in-
•quired. " They cost me very dearly," said he. " Three of my
squaws lost brothers, and one of them a father, on that trip,
and I came near going under myself. I lost several other
braves, and you can depend on it that I paid for all the horses
1 drove away. Them Spaniards followed us and fought us in a
way that Spaniards were never before known to do." "How
many did you get ?" we again queried. " Only about 3000 ;
the rascals got about half of what we started with away from
Us, d n them. I made up my mind to try it over, but then

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 283

our own people taking the country broke up my plans. I
never make war on my own people, and in driving off Spanish
horses I might be brought in contact with my own country-
men, and you know that would not by any manner of means
do."

According to Rubideaux, a half-dozen white men and about
a hundred and fifty Indians took the war-path on this grand
expedition of Pegleg to the "Spanish country," Jim Beck-
worth having preceded the party as a spy. According to
Colonel Williams, Jim, who was a mulatto, came in and made
his headquarters at his (Chino) ranch, and pretending that he
was going to remain in the country and try his hand at killing
sea otter, then a most profitable business, Jini spied out the
land, and when Pegleg appeared in the Cajon Pass was ready
at hand to counsel, guide and assist him. The raid was rapid
and successful. Every ranch south of the Santa Ana to San
Juan was visited, and the best horses and mares driven away,
and before the rancheros could collect in sufficient force to
pursue, the raiders had re-entered the Cajon. The pursuit
was, however, made, and so vigorously that the raiders were
overtaken, roughly handled, and with the result as above
stated by the renowned Pegleg himself. This foray was un-
doubtedly well planned, and was only preliminary to others to
follow of a still more formidable character, which were pre-
vented by the country falling into the hands of the great gringo
nation. Pegleg, however, had made a previous grand haul of
horses in Los Angeles Valley, in 1835.

284 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XXV.

Ranchero Life — Fiestas — Military Execution — Rancho San Pedro— Don
Manuel Dorainguez — A Dignitary — Rancho del Chino— Colonel Isaac
Williams — His Noble Generosity — Rancho San Joaquin — A Grand
Rodea— Don Jose* Sepulveda— A Forty-two Mile Race — William
Wolfskill.

author ventures the assertion, and without the fear
of contradiction, that no country since the days of the
Biblical patriarchs presented such scenes of pastural
beauty, general prosperity and Arcadian happiness as did Cali-
fornia before the discovery of gold in '48. If I am. correct,
before the coming of the gringo in '46, the Mexican province of
California contained a population of 30,000 inhabitants, not
counting the Indians. This population extended along the
coast from San Diego to Sonoma, a distance of say 600 miles.
There being only a few towns, San Diego being first, then Los
Angeles, Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo, Monterey', Santa
.Cruz, San Jose, Yerba Buena, and last of all going north,
Sonoma. Los Angeles was the largest, containing a popu-
lation of about 2000. Next came Santa Barbara and Mon-
terey, mere villages. Now it is quite easy for the reader
to perceive that the major part of the population dwelt on
the ranches. These ranchos ranged in siz efrom one to eleven
leagues — that is, in round numbers from five thousand to
fifty thousand acres; the owner of each rancho possessing from
one thousand to ten thousand head of horned cattle, and
from one or two hundred to three thousand or four thousand
head of horses, broken and bronco. The country, even when

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 285

the value of a bullock was his hide, tallow and horns, was
prosperous, and money plenty. The rancheros dressed well,
were well housed, and had an abundance of store — home pro-
duce and of foreign importation.

Having heretofore described a California adobe house, a rep-
etition "thereof will not now be necessary. The hospitality of
the California rancheros was a proverb. A person, though he
may have been a stranger, or to the country born, could start
from San Diego and journey to Sonoma without its costing
him a dollar, and be furnished with a fresh horse at every
rancho, leaving instead the one of the previous day's ride.
Such a thing as charging a traveler for what he received would
have been considered an act of excessive meanness. The social
intercourse and amusements of these isolated people were in
keeping with their situation. Religious fiestas were celebrated
at the pueblos and Missions with great pomp and ceremony,
and afforded a pleasant recreation and relief from the monotony
of ranch life. When the daughter of a ranchero married, the
family either gave a grand fiesta at the rancho or a baile at the
pueblo or Mission, to which the whole country were invited,
except the lower classes, and to which the people came some-
times from a distance of forty leagues or more, families travel-
ing in their elaborately fixed up carretas, and the beaux trans-
porting the belles before them on their elegant saddles, the
beau occupying a seat on the croup with his bridle arm rest-
ing on the shoulder of his fair passenger, or encircling her
slender waist. While the families were absent on these social
expeditions nothing would go amiss on the ranches, the major-
• domo and the Indian vaqueros would look out for the herds as
though the patron were present; the grass would grow and the
cattle would thrive and multiply. These marriage feasts
would be of three or four days' duration. Dancing at night
and horse-racing during the day, and generally winding up
with bull-fighting. The religious feasts celebrated at the

286 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

churches were brilliant, pompous, expensive and imposing, the
most important of which were the feast of the Holy Week,
Corpus Christi and St. John's Day, the latter being devoted to
cock-fighting and kindred amusements, .one of which was to
take a live cock and after plucking the feathers from and
thoroughly greasing his neck, his body would be buried iu
the middle of the street or road, the greased neck alone
being exposed above the ground. Now the .game was to
dash past the buried cock at full speed on horseback, and
lean over and seize the neck and pull the cock from the
ground — a most difficult performance. On St. John's Day,
in '53, General Andres Pico, Jack Powers and Don Jose
Sepulveda were the principal contestants in this exciting sport,
Sepulveda being the victor of a well-contested day. The
feast of Corpus Christi was one of peculiar religious observance,
one of processions, parades and displays. The feast of the
Holy Week always ended with a tragedy on the Saturday of
Glory, in the annual execution of that eminent traitor, Judas
Iscariot, which was done by first erecting a gibbet, then an
effigy of Judas was brought forth from an imaginary prison,
was mounted on a cart, with his arms pinioned, and being
guarded by a file of soldiers, was drawn around the plaza and
principal streets, followed by the excited crowd, hooted at,
insulted and pelted by the boys and others, and finally, in a
most dilapidated and disgraceful condition, was halted in front
of the gibbet. Now an orator from the crowd comes forward
and delivers a solemn lecture to Judas, and gi^es him fits,
makes his bow and retires, and is succeeded by another orator,
who gives Judas another berating, and accuses him of crimes so
contemptible and manifold, that, as an impartial judge one feels
constrained to take sides with the old sinner, and declare one's
utter unbelief in those divers and many crimes charged against
him — such, for instance, as "robbing hen-roosts, of stealing old
clothes, of dealing cards unfairly in the national game of

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 287"

monte, of being a cheat, a vagabond, a Jew, and worst of all, a
gringo." Poor old Judas stands this without a word of denial,
and by standing mute is deemed to have pleaded guilty, is
taken from the cart, raised to and bound on the gibbet. The
crowd again commence to insult and pelt him, all of which old
Judas endures without a word of remonstrance ; stands like a
martyr. The tragedy is about to end as the shades of eve
begin to fall upon the scene.

Now we hear the strains of martial music, the solemn
tap of the drum, and the heavy tramp of military feet as a
platoon of infantry file into line and halt in front of the
doomed traitor. Now the judgment of the courjfc is read and
the death warrant recited, and Judas is given an opportunity
to speak for himself, but remains as mute as a dead mutton,
which is taken as an acknowledgement that the judgment is
just, and that he ought to die. Now the military commander
orders his men to "load! shoulder arms ! ready! aim! fire!"
and poor Judas for the eighteen-hundredth time or more suffers
a public execution. The volley riddles him. Then " load and
fire at will," and the soldiers take huge delight in firing at
Judas until there is not a piece of him left large enough for a
cigar wrapper. In the meantime the band plays, the crowd
yell and hoot in triumphant glee, and Judas is sent to the-
devil until Saturday the year coming, when he is again disposed
of in the same way.

After the gringo nation had nailed its flag to the mast in
this angel land, the ceremonies attending the annual execution
of Judas became less inspiriting and satisfactory, because of
there being no military to blow the old traitor into the next
year. Happily, in 1854, one W. W. Twist, he who had been
Sheriff of Santa Barbara and got so worsted in his tussle with
Jack Powers, raised a company of volunteer infantry, responded
to the pious call of Father Anacleto, marched his company to
the plaza, and with Uncle Sam's muskets riddled Judas as

;288 REMINISCENCES OF A BANGER.

•effectually, as well and as much to the satisfaction of all con-
cerned as ever did the Christian soldiers of Spain and Mexico.
'Twist came to California with Stephenson's regiment, was a
natural-born soldier, was an American by birth and a Mexican
by marriage and won a crown immortal in being the first, and
possibly the last man, who ever used the arms of the gringo
government in so pious a way. Alas ! poor Twist, he went to
.Sonora and ascended thence to glory on the emoke of a Mexican
revolution.

Some of the great ranches of the country were baronial in
-their extent and surroundings. Their proprietors being great
.dignitaries, maintaining large numbers of vassals — for such
really they were, mostly Indians who, under Mexican major
•domes, did all of the labor for the ranch. The chief major
.domo, under the immediate direction of the patron, had entire
supervision of the business; then there was the naajor domo de
la casa, or steward; the major domo del campo had charge of
•the vaqueros, or mounted herders in the field .; the major
domo de las caponeras had full control of the gentle horses;
the major domo de las manadas were in charge of thousands of
^wild mares and their foals, and attended to the branding of
colts, others to the marking and branding of cattle. There
vwere hair-rope and halter-makers, others who made cinches or
broad hair girths, makers of raw hide riatas, the curers of
hides, the triers out of tallow, the hewers of wood and the
carreta men, all of whom amounted to hundreds of people
dependent upon the ranchero or lord of the manor. At morn
you hear the clatter of horses' feet and the jingling of spurs as
the mounted men, hat in hand report for duty to the major
domo-in-chief and then in detachments dash off at a full gallop
in all directions to their respective duties. By this time coffee
is served in the dining hall, and the patron, members of his
household, and guests take their morning cup. At nine or ten
•o'clock the vaqueros begin to return from the field, and.alierd

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 289

of gentle horses are driven into the corral, fresh ones are caught,
and those of the day before are turned loose, may be not to be
used again for a week; the fresh ones are saddled, and then the
under major domos report to the chief, who in turn, hat in
hand, reports to the patron, and then the whole ranch goes to
breakfast, which being disposed of the duties of the day are
resumed.

This was about the business of a first-class California rancho
in the times of which I write, and prior to the discovery of
gold. _The Rancho San Pedro, the property of Don Manuel
Dominguez, the Rancho San Joaquin, belonging to Don Jose
Sepulveda, and the Rancho del Chino, the lordly estate of
Isaac Williams, were among the first in California, each of
which maintained over 10,000 head of horned cattle and half
as many horses, and on my first visit to Chino, in '52, Colonel
Williams had just purchased a herd of 35,000 sheep from New
Mexico, with which to commence the business of sheep-raising.
Rancho San Pedro lies on Wilmington Bay, and extends about
ten miles on the way to Los Angeles. Don Manuel, who
lorded it over this magnificent California barony when Commo-
dore Mervine, U. S. N., on his march against Los Angeles, in
1846, and on being repulsed made the Dominguez ranch house
a temporary halting-place and fortification, is still the fee
simple owner of this grand domain of rich bottom land.

Don Manuel Dominguez as a representative California Mex-
ican of the educated and intelligent class, deserves more than a
passing mention, and his name should go into and become a part
of the history of this country. Don Manuel was a former
dignitary of California, having under the Mexican regime held
some of the most important offices in the province, once refus-
ing the governorship. On the formation of the State govern-
ment in '49 he was a most influential member of the constitu-
tional convention. Nothing more is necessary to illustrate the

sterling worth of this iron octogenarian than to say that
19

290 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

through all the misfortunes that befell the great landed
proprietors of California he almost alone stands as a sturdy
oak midst the desolation around him, all of his contemporaries
having bowed, bent and fallen before the storms of adversity.
The great landed estates of California in some way or other
having passed from the hands of the former proprietors and
become the heritage of the stranger. Clad in the armor of
good sense and integrity, Don Manuel has battled with adver-
sity, dealing blow for blow, and has come out victorious. All
honor to the noble old hero, who now, surrounded by chil-
dren and grandchildren, and all that goes to make one happy,
from his castle gates on the Dominguez hills, with his ancient
field-glass sweeps the boundary of his twenty thousand acre
field, with full assurance that he has weathered the storm, out-
rode the billows of adversity, and has anchored his life-boat in
the quiet harbor of security, honor and contentment. On the
coming of the American the broad doors were thrown open at
the Casa Dominguez, and a hospitality was dispensed that was
baronial. With the genial Dr. John BrinckerhooiF as interpre-
ter and master of ceremonies, the balls, entertainments and
company at the Dominguez house were of the best in all Cali-
fornia. It is safe to say that Don Manuel has not an enemy
among the thousands who know him ; honored and beloved by
all. Soon after my arrival in this then happy land it became
my good fortune to be an invited guest at the house of the
generous Don Manuel, and to win, and I hope to have deserved,
his friendship and esteem, and will ever treasure the memories
clustering around his festive board as of the most agreeable
within my quite varied experience.

In May, '53, I was invited to attend a grand rodea (which
means a gathering of cattle), which was to take place on the
San Joaquin Rancho, forty- two miles east of Los Angeles ; so
in company with a fellow-gringo I betook myself thither, arriv-
ing late in the afternoon. Reaching the ranch house, I was

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 291

surprised at the numbers present ; rancheros from all parts of
the county, and from San Diego, either in person, followed by
a troop of retainers, or by their representatives, the major
domos. The Machados of La Ballona, the Picos from San
Fernando and San Diego, the Dominguez, the Sepulvedas of
Palos Verdes, the Lugos from everywhere, the Avilas of
Tahauta, Centinela and Aliso, the Sanchez, the Ocampo, and
the Cotas, the Stearns, Rowlands, Reeds, Williams, the
Yorbas of Santa Ana, and the Temples of Puente and Cerritos,
all were there — a larger army than that with which Andres
Pico so roughly handled Gen. Kearney at San Pascual, and
placed thirty-two of his troopers liors du combat. All were
there, with their trains, to separate and drive to their respective
ranches whatever cattle may have strayed to the confines of
San Joaquin. When I unsaddled I could see groups of dozens
here and there, seated upon and surrounding a blanket spread
upon the ground, engaged in the national game of monte.
These were the vaquero servants. At the house I found Don
Jose Sepulveda, the owner of San Joaquin, with dignified cour-
tesy receiving the visitors to the rodea, Don Jose's residence,
however, being in the city. The ranchmen are busy in dealing
out beef and other comestibles to the vaqueros, and the house
emits the odors of cookery, for the patrons and major domos,
must be entertained as becomes their quality. Full a hun-
dred persons sup at the ranch table, after which conversation
commences, and is kept up until long after the writer has
passed the boundary of dreamland. Before daylight, however,
the whole camp is astir, and when I take my coffee scarce a
man is to be seen, all having gone to the field to form the rodea
for the day's work. By nine o'clock 30,000 head of horned
cattle are brought into one herd, and surrounded b> vaqueros,
armed with the terrible riata, and now the work of separation
and marking begins.

The cattle of these many owners have not only to be sep-

292 'REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

arated, but the calves must be marked in the ear and branded.
All of this work must be done inside of two days, as during
the time, this great herd have no food, and may become mad-
dened and unmanageable from hunger &nd thirst. To pene-
.trate this formidable body, to a gringo, is a most delicate and
dangerous operation, but to see how the vaqueros do it, their
perfection of horsemanship, the adroitness with which they ply
the riata, the cleverness and ease with which they extricate a
cow and her calf from this living labarynth, excites one's
admiration in the highest degree. As they are extricated each
owner receives his own marks and brands the calf and drives
them to his separate herd. So by the time the rodea is over
the grand herd of 30,000 is broken into many small herds and
the vaqueros drive them to their respective ranches. These
rodeas were grand affairs, .and the } oung men of the ranches
vied with each other in feats of horsemanship and throwing
the lazo. The one of which I write was disposed of in two
days, and a few of the rancheros resolved to remain at the
rancho and further enjoy the hospitality of the host, and when
I surrendered myself to the embrace of Morpheus, the most
lively conversation was going on, Don Jose and his brother,
Don Fernando, manifesting a lively interest therein. At about
half-past three o'clock a messenger arrived from Los Angeles
with the information that the aged father of Don Jose and
Fernando was suddenly stricken with serious illness and was on
the very threshold of eternity. The arrival awoke myself and
companion, and upon learning the matter and that Don Jose
and his brother were to depart instantly, we ordered our horses
and resolved to ride in with them. Some one suggested that
we would not be able to keep up, but as Don Jose was near
sixty years of age we scouted the idea, and at four o'clock we
were on the road at a full gallop, which we continued to the
Santa Ana, the two Dons rising the west bank when we were
in the middle of the river. We failed to come up with them,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 293

notwithstanding we put our chargers to their mettle, and before
reaching Los Nietos they were out of sight. When we
ascended the western bluff of the San Gabriel we could faintly
discern the flying figures of the two horsemen eight miles
ahead of us. "We were badly beaten, notwithstanding we made
the forty-two miles in a few minutes over three hours.
X One of the most prominent and wealthy of the ante-bellum
pioneers was Isaac Williams, known in the Spanish vernacular
as Don Julian del Chino. Colonel Williams was the most
perfect specimen of the frontier gentleman I ever knew — tall,
handsome, elegant and courtly in his manners. To have met
him in Washington or N«w York he would have been taken as
a high type of a cotton king of Louisiana, rather than one who
had passed his life in the Kocky Mountains and on the unknown
shores of the unknown sea. With his fifteen leagues of the
best land in California, his ten thousand head of horned cattle,
his six thousand or more of horses, his thirty-five thousand head
of sheep, his fields of corn, barley, and wheat, with his corps of
Mexican assistants and his villages of Indian vassals, this
adventurous American was more than a baron : he was a prince,
and wielded an influence and power more absolute and
arbitrary than any of the barons of the middle ages. Colonel
Williams dispensed a hospitality that was not only free, it was
generous. His house was always open, and when it would not
hold his guests they would camp around. Hundreds and
thousands of immigrants from the " States," from Chihuahua
and New Mexico, found the Chino ranch a haven of rest, where
the hungry were fed, and the naked clothed, and the infirm
cared for, and none came without a welcome to his bounty.
I have seen one hundred persons at a time recipients of his
generosity. He would send to Los Angeles and purchase
clothes for his tattered countrymen after their arduous journey
across the mountains and deserts. Individually I knew three
young men having crossed the plains, hired to Colonel Williams.

294 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

to dig a ditch. He finding them to be educated business men,
came into Los Angeles and set them up as merchants, with a
$10,000 stock. His open generosity frequently exposed him
to impositions and frauds, all of which he submitted to with
the utmost philosophical good humor. In '52 and '53 I passed
n good deal of my time as the friend and guest of this modern
feudal lord, and in writing this tribute to his memory know
whereof I write. Colonel Williams died in 1857, at the age of
about fifty-five years. Colonel John J. Warner, another
pioneer, whose magnificent domain was the first that was
reached by the immigrant after crossing the Colorado desert,
was always open-hearted and genSrous to the way-worn
traveller, and not being so rich as Williams was nearly impov-
erished by his acts of charitable liberality. All honor to this
benevolent old pioneer.

Don Jose Sepulveda died in 1875, leaving to the country
one of the finest families of children that now grace our
county and its society — one of his daughters being the wife of
my salt-sea hero, Captain Haley, one the wife of Captain James
Thompson, whose name appears so often and so honorably in
this book, and the last is the wife of Thomas D. Mott, who
was for many years successively Clerk of Los Angeles County,
and more recently a member of the State Legislature. Mr.
Mott is a member of the celebrated Mott family of New York,
and is all in all a very marked character.

Don Jose sent his boys to the East to be educated, and in
this he manifested great wisdom. His son Ignacio. yet a young
man, is one of the most promising, not only in the State, but
within the whole limits of our glorious land. A lawyer of rare
talent, he, when scarce past his majority, discharged the duties
of Judge of Los Angeles County with marked distinction and
ability, and was raised thence to the dignity of District Judge,
and is now a Judge of the Superior Court. The country has
just cause for being proud of, and the people are proud of,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 295

Judge Ignacio Sepulveda, and the author is proud to call him
my friend. Andronico Sepulveda, a brother to the Judge, is
Auditor of Los Angeles County.

The first few days after my arrival in Los Angeles I visited
the then famous vineyard of William Wolfskill, the best then
in California. Mr. Wolfskill was a very remarkable man ; in
fact he was a hero — not the kind of a hero poets like to sing
about, but still a hero. A man of .indomitable will, industry
and self-denial ; an American pioneer hero ; one who succeeds
in all he undertakes, and is alwa) 7 s to be trusted ; of the kind
of men who enrich the country in which they live. Mr. Wolf-
skill sold the first grapes in San Francisco grown north of Los
Angeles. Having planted a vineyard, on his ranch in jS"apa
Valley, in '54, he placed his first crop on Long Wharf, in San
Francisco, one month in advance of Los Angeles grapes, and
sold them at twenty-five dollars per cental wholesale. I met
this pioneer fruit-grower when disposing of this crop, and he
said, "I am now realizing a boyhood dream, of a country where
money grows on bushes. Growing grapes at two bits a pound
is the nearest thing to plucking money from bushes that has
ever been realized." Mr. Wolfskill was the most economical of
men, yet in all truth he was one of the most hospitable and
generous. He died in 1866, leaving a very large fortune.

296 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Jim Savage, the Tulare King — His Gieat Influence Over the Indians — His
Barrel of Gold Dust— He Establishes His Camp and Harem on the
Plaza of San Francisco— Is Photographed by Vance— Indian Monte —
Jim Wins a Large Pile — His Bloody End.

KNOW of no country at the present day so inac-
cessible and isolated as was California prior to the
Mexican war. To reach our coast by sea required
a voyage of imminent danger and monotonous hardship of
nearly a year. The old hide droghers being the class of vessel
that would butt three times at a billow and then back out
and go around it, and besides the skipper felt it to be his
especial duty to remain in each port, and Honolulu in partic-
ular, as long a time as the convenience of the crew required.
By land no one came here, unless perchance some adventurous
gringo vagabondizing in Mexico sought fairer fields further
on, and finding carne and contentment in our genial land,
became as one to the manor born, hence all of the ante-bellum
gringos were Dons, and generally held in high esteem by the
genuine and simon-pure Dons of the country. However, some
of the descendants of the conquistaclores held these adopted
Dons in not very high esteem and withheld from them the
aristocratic distinction, and denied that those gringos aforesaid
were even entitled to be called Hidalgos, — the latter appella-
tion meaning a man who has a father, or the son of somebody.
Adventurous trappers sometimes found themselves trapped
into becoming Dons and the fathers of Dons, which latter
class of Dons now claim to be Hidalgos, or meaning in another

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 297

sense that they had somebody for a father, a something certainly
to be justly proud of. Now there were just three classes of
gringos, as above enumerated, the seaman, the adventurer from
Mexico, and the trapper. The true born Spaniard is very
proud, and why not ? Was not Cervantes a Spaniard ? And
did not the Spanish cavalier upset the Aztec empire in Mexico,
and the Incas in Peru, level their temples with the ground
and gobble up an immense amount of swag, and then set up
as the richest and most powerful people, under the special pro-
tection of their unnumbered saints. I repeat the Spaniard is
proud and has reason so to be, and those who held the bogus
gringo Dons in low esteem only did honor to their noble
ancestry.

There were some exceptions to these three kinds of gringos
but they were very rare, as much so as angels' visits, which
were not rarities at all in this angelic land, as occasionally
a gentleman of education and rare accomplishments would
find his way to this far-off region, and being seduced by its
charms, or the charms of its blythe and happy daughters,
would here remain. Such were Victor Prudhomme, Thomas
0. Larkin, General Sutter, Don David W. Alexander and men
of that class. This reminds me now of an anecdote that was
related to me by Don David which will illustrate the contempt
in which the average gringo was held by the high-toned Span-
iard in the ante-bellum times in California.

Don David was visiting at one of the principal angel habita-
tions hereabout, and was engaged in conversation with the pre-
siding angel thereof, when a little girl came to the door with,
'•' Mamma, alia viene jente" (people are coming). "Quienes
son ? " (who are they ?) queried the rnamma. ie Quien sabe ?
hay muchos" (who knows? there are many), answered the
little angel. At this time the Dona went to the door, and see-
ing the jente, returned to her seat, gently reproving her little
girl with : "Ah, que ija, estos no son jente ; son gringos."

298 REMINISCENCES OF A HANGER.

(Fie ! fie ! child, those are not people ; they are gringos.) In
the third chapter of this history the author, in defining the
word gringo, declared it to have been an awful thing to be a
gringo in those days. Now, does the reader wonder at the
declaration ? Don David was a most genial camp-fire com-
panion, and the very best story-teller that ever flipped a flap-
jack, and hereafter I may make further mention of him in that
particular.

In those ante-bellum times there appeared among the
Indians of the Tulare Valley a character that was not a Don —
neither was he a gringo. Whence he came no one knew ; who
he was, or had been, was a mystery. He was comparatively a
boy, white, -and an American. He eschewed all association
with the scattering gringo population, and severely gave- the
cold shoulder to the native Dons. The Indians themselves
could elicit no information as to his antecedents, so they decided
that he came down on a moonbeam. Without any palaver he
hung up his hat among those Indians, and at once assumed the
role of ruler.

Having first installed himself as chief of a village, soon he
became master of a tribe. Being sober, intelligent, and ener-
getic he did a great deal to ameliorate the condition of his
people, and to teach them the ruder arts of civilization. He
encouraged them to raise crops and garner them, and having
become so popular with one tribe, others sought his protection
and rule, and when the American flag was flung to the breeze
in California, Jim Savage was the absolute and despotic ruler
over thousands of Indians, extending all the way from the
Cosumnes to the Tejon Pass, and was by them designated in
their Spanish vernacular El Bey Guero — The blonde king. He
called himself the Tulare King. The respect, fear and super-
stitious veneration these rude people had for their mysterious
king, was greater than that shown by the Aztecs for the
Tonatiuh of conquistorial history. Jim might have been a

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 299

veritable El Dorado, or El Rey Dorado, and fearing that many
of rny readers may not fully understand the meaning of that
term, I will inform him that for many years in South America,
after the conquest, there was a tradition that somewhere in the
valley of the Orinoco, there existed an Indian kingdom ; that
gold dust was there so plentiful that every morning the King
after his ablutions was anointed with a resinous gum and then
besprinkled with gold dust until he was made to appear as though
he were gilded (dorado — from the Spanish verb dorar, to guild.)
This imaginary monarch was called tiie Gilded King, (El Rey
Dorado). The Tulare King might have been El Rey Dorado,
for the reason that in 1850 he had more gold dust than possibly
was ever possessed by any one man, and could have been gilded
therewith every morning of his life should he have lived his
allotted time. Mr, G. D. W. Robinson, one of our most truth-
ful and intelligent '49ers, (and where is the '49er who is not
truthful in all gold stories) now resident of San Diego, informs
the writer hereof that in 1850 he was at Jim Savage's Camp
in the Tulares, and that he had a pork barrel full of gold dust,
which enormous quantity would amount to nearly a million of
dollars in value; still Mr. Robinson declares the truth of what
is here written, and has proffered to make affidavit to the same,
and also that this great treasure sat in his tent wholly
unguarded except by the Indians themselves.

When the gold mines were discovered, the Tulare King, with
a large number of his slave-like subjects went to the mines, and
the Indians with their lateas could collect as much dust as
could the most intelligent white man, and at the close of day
all these Indian workers would faithfully deliver the proceeds
of their day's labor to their King.

Jirn also won an enormous quantity of gold-dust, from a
tribe of mountain Indians. The Tulare King was a great
adept in the Indian game of three sticks, which is very much
like three-card monte. One of three'short sticks being marked,

300 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

a player takes the three and after manipulating conceals them
in his two closed hands, and the others lay their wagers and
then guess in which hand the dealer holds the marked stick.
Now a certain mountain chief, whose tribe had collected a large
amount of dust, was challenged by Jim Savage to play this
game for gold-dust. The challenge being accepted, the whole
mountain tribe came to Jim's camp and were royally enter-
tained. Beeves were slaughtered, flour given out, and sugar
and coffee freely distributed, all at Jim's expense. After much
palaver and ceremony the game commenced and was kept up
with varying success for three days, when at last the Tulare
King won the last measure of gold, which occurred at about
midnight. "When the last wager was lost the dusky mountain
chief gave a resonant whoop and took up a dog trot for the
mountains, followed in the same manner by his tribe. He was
beaten, but how he never knew. The truth was, Jim had
learned to conceal the marked stick in his sleeve. The naked
savage, never suspecting such civilized device, was thus beaten
out of all the dust collected by his tribe during the season.
Some time in the autumn of '50 the Tulare King, with his
court and harem visited San Francisco, and notwithstanding
his immense wealth in gold-dust he disdained to stop at a tav-
ern, or live in the manner of civilized man, and so he pitched
his camp on Portsmouth Square (the plaza) in all the pomp of
barbaric magnificence, and was thus photographed by Vance,
the pioneer picture man. This photograph ought to be in the
collection of the Society of Pioneers.

The King, court and harem, however, only remained in San
Francisco long enough to see the sights of civilization, and then
returned to their great Tulare kingdom, and now
" Grim visaged war rears his wrinkled front."

The mountain Indians were making war on the miners, and
the bugle blast of war resounded from the American Fork to
the Stanislaus. Two batallions of militia were called out and

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 301

Major Savage was appointed to command that of the South.
In his batallion he had some very high-strung officers, one a
West Point graduate, I believe, Major Harvey.

Now, although Jim Savage was a man of rare ability, and
wherever or how he got it, had a very tolerable education, but
was wholly unfitted to command a batallion of such men as be-
longed to his command, for as such commander he showed such
despotic disposition as he had used toward his Tulare Indians,
who were in no way compromised in the war then waged by
their redskin kindred, and their King was only appointed to
command because of his great influence among all the Indians,
the seat of war being many leagues to the northward of the
Tulare capital, as it was, Major Savage committed some great
indignity on some of his high-toned officers, for which, in a
fight of his own seeking, he was killed.

Great was the wailing of grief among the Tulares at the
untimely taking off of their King. For months they continued
to mourn, and in all truth their loss was irreparable. Jim
Savage was not only their King, lie was a father ever guardf ul
of their rights, and had he been spared them their annihilation,
which was so swift that it can scarcely be realized, might have
been averted. Jim Savage was a wonderful man, and his
•death was a loss to the country as well as to the Indians.
•Since his death no elue was ever found as to his origin or ante-
cedent history, and no account was ever taken or inquiry made
concerning his vast treasure in gold dust.

After the death of Jim Savage various white men went
;among those same Indians and tried to win their confidence
and gain such influence as was wielded by Savage, but all
without avail. After €ke death of their Rey Guero white men
were all alike to them.

When the gold mines were discovered California was densely
[populated with Indians. You couldn't go amiss for them.
Mountain and valley, forest and plain, were covered with

302 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Indians. Where are they ? Thirty years seems too short a
period of time to annihilate a great population extending over
more than a thousand miles extent of country. At the present
time, passing over the Tulare plains not a vestige is to be seen
of its former thousands of Indian population. They are gone !
all gone ! It is sad to contemplate ; they were so docile and
harmless in disposition. If they were swept into the mael-
strom of destruction by our Anglo-Saxon civilization, then I
fear me there is something wrong about it. But what is the
use of useless lamentation ? The Indians are all gone and
that is the end of it, and we can only hope that they have all
gone to happy hunting grounds.

Major Walter H. Harvey, the slayer of Jim Savage, was
sensitive, generous, and high-strung, absolutely fearless, slow
to give offence, and quick as the lightning's flash to resent an
insult or to repel an aggression. I do not remember the exact
cause of the difficulty between himself and Savage, and it is
now too late to inquire, or to raise an issue thereon ; but
knowing Harvey long and well, the author is free to maintain
that in the great number of brave and generous men of pioneer
times, none stood higher than the gallant Harvey, who died at
Los Angeles in 1861, aged forty-eight years.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 3C3

CHAPTER XXVII.

Bradsbaw — A. True Gentleman and Natural Lunatic — Bill First Turns Up
in Sonoma in 1846 — His Scrimmage With -a Mexican Caplaia — Comes
Out First Best but Vamoses the Ranch — Joins the Bear Flag Party —
Capture of Sonoma — True Chivalry — Joins Fremont's Battalion — Mad
Freaks Among the Angels — The French Rebellion at Mokelumne Hill —
The Militia Ordered Out — Bradshaw Appointed to Command — Happy
Termination of the War — His Antics in San Francisco- Goes to Ari-
zona — Tragic Death.

JENTION having been heretofore made of Bill Brad-
shaw, his shooting Nelse Williamson in our Kern
River gold seeking expedition and his having given
name to the famous Bradshaw mining district in Arizona, it
will now be in place to give a brief account of this curious
character, and a more curious or a more marked character this
careful chronicler never knew — one of nature's most polished
gentlemen and brightest jewel in America's collection of true
born chivalry. Bradshaw was brave, generous, eccentric, and
in simple truth a natural lunatic. In manly form and physi-
cal beauty, perfect; in muscular strength, a giant; in fleetness
of foot and endurance, unequaled. The first account I have of
Bradshaw was at Sonoma in 1846, then about twenty years old,
at work, under Captain Salvador Vallejo, Mexican Post Com-
mander, building a picket fence. Don Salvador, with all the
pomp and circumstance of despotic authority came around
where Bill was at work and expressed his marked displeasure
at the manner in which it was being done. Bill, with all
the dignity of true born American importance, flatly told the
Don that he didn't know what he was talking about, which
sass so kindled the ire of the offended Mexican dignitary that

304 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

he whipped out his trusty Toledo and tried its temper on Bill's
supposed seat of honor, striking him with the flat thereof.
Vesuvius ! Stromboli ! Cotapaxi ! what are thy fires as com-

•

pared with those that raged in the bosom of this young hero
from the land of Marion and Surnpter upon being struck an
ignominious blow with the flat of a Mexican sabre ? In an
instant the domineering Don was down, felled like an ox with
a redwood picket, wielded with terrific force by this outraged
American boy, who seized the sword of the apparently dead
Captain, and in a fury of uncontrollable rage pounded it
into pot-hooks with his axe that lay conveniently near. Then
realizing what he had done Bradshaw saw that he must
choose, and that immediately, between instant flight and a
Mexican prison, chains, and ignominious punishment. So hur-
riedly he sought his temporary lodging place, seized his rifle
and struck out for the Sacramento Valley, and only returned to
Sonoma when that military post fell into the hands of the
Bear Flag party, Bradshaw being one of the most daring and
energetic of that adventurous band.

Salvador Vallejo commanded the garrison at Sonoma, and
finding the young hero of the redwood picket in the ranks of
his captors, was greatly alarmed, and said to the Bear Flag
commander, " Now I suppose I will be murdered, finding this
assassin in your force," pointing to Bradshaw. "Oh, no,"
responded Bill ; " we are now friends, so far as I am concerned.
If I owed you anything I paid it in full, and with interest. Is
not this true, Don Salvador ? And if you owed me anything
I am willing to square accounts. An American never strikes
an enemy when he is down. You are down now, and I am up,
so here's my hand ; my friendship is yours if you need it."
Don Salvador, who was really a fine fellow, manifestly
chagrined, shook the proffered hand of the victorious young
'Filibuster, vowing future friendship, and ever after the two
were fast friends. 'Bill said it was the proudest act of his life

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 305

to show that mendacious Mexican how an American could
avenge a wrong. The next we know of Bradshaw is in Los
Angeles, in '47, as a Lieutenant in Fremont's Battalion, where
his wild freaks astonished the Dons and won the hearts of the
Dofias, among whom he was a universal favorite. Next, in '51,
we find him playing the game of heroic chivalry at Mokelumne
Hill, in the French revolution at that place, which occurred in
this way and from this cause: The State Legislature had
passed a foreign miners' tax law, which the French, and there
was a large colony of them at Mokelumne Hill, refused to pay.
The Sheriff, who was tax collector ex-officio } summoned a large
posse to enforce collection. The Frenchmen rallied, raised the
tri-colored flag, proclaimed their independence, marched in
armed procession, sang the Marsellaise, and boldly defied the
power of the State. The Governor ordered out a battalion of
militia, and appointed Bradshaw to command it. Marshaling
his warriors, Bill drew up before the Gallic fort, and ordered
the tri-colored flag to be hauled down, the rebels to lay down
their arms, and surrender at discretion. The fiery Frenchmen
flung their defiance in the teeth of the enemy, by a fierce " Vive
la France," then marched forth in battle array, formed their
line in front of Bradshaw's men, and dared them to fire the first
shot, whereupon the clicking of gun-cocks was heard along the
line of the militia. At this Bradshaw faced his line, and com-
manded " Order arms," which was generally obeyed. Some'
however, standing menacingly at a " ready," Bradshaw then
proceeded to disarm and eject from his line those who had
dared to disobey his order ; after which he approached the
French commander, and proposed to him that if blood was to
be spilled, then let the question involved be then and there
settled by single combat, the two commanders to be the com-
batants. This proposition being instantly accepted, the
preliminaries were gone into, Avhich happily led to an amicable

adjustment of the unfortunate complications. The rebels
20

306 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

pulled down their tri-color, and peace reigned supreme where
" Grim visaged war had reared his wrinkled front."

When the question of foreign miner's tax came to be gravely
discussed, it was decided that the " intent of the Legislature
was only to tax Chinamen, and that Gauls, Britons, and other
pugnacious peoples were not included in the miners' tax," and
right there the whole thing ended except as to the Chinamen,
who were vigorously pursued and made to feel the full force of
the law in filling the pockets of the Collector and his legion of
deputies, for very little of the gold wrung from the non-
resisting Mongols found its way into either the county or State
treasuries. Bradshaw won a most honorable distinction in this
episode of dangerous import, and to him was solely due its
happy termination.

Bill was one of the most witty fellows to be found, and
wherever he stopped a crowd of eager listeners would surround
him, and roars of merriment would respond to his well "turned
points. The last time I saw him was at the old St. Nicholas
Hotel in San Francisco, more commonly known as Arm-
strong's, on Sansome street, between Commercial and Sacra-
mento. Bradshaw had just arrived from Tuolumne and found
at the hotel quite a circle of old friends, including the author,
Tom Hereford, Bob Wood, Joe McCorkle, then a member of
Congress, and others, all of whom formed a dinner party in the
grand dining saloon and occupied a table to themselves. It
was soon found that Bradshaw's or Bunk's (as he was called,
from the fact that he came originally from Buncum county,
South Carolina) drolleries not only kept his own dining com-
panions in uproarious merriment, but excited attention from
the occupants of neighboring tables.

Some one passed a dish of shrimps to Bunk, with the
" Major, try some of the shrimps ?" " Shrimps ? What are
shrimps ?" queried Bunk. The desired information hp.ving
been duly accorded, Bradshaw gravely and with the utmost

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 307

deliberation soliloquizes as though speaking to himself, holding
the dish of shrimps in one hand and intently gazing at the con-
tents: ""Well, these are shrimps! I never heard of a shrimp
before. "Wonder how they'll do ? The fact is, I've eaten
snakes, feasted on lizards and gormandized on grasshoppers, and
thought I had tasted all kinds of human food, but now here's
something new !" ' Then deliberately taking a large handful of
the "plagued things," as he called them, went to eating them
as though they had been wild huckleberries. In a moment the
whole dining-room was in an uproar of boisterous merriment,
while Bunk continued eating until he had finished the whole
dish, shells, claws and all.

Alas, poor Bradshaw ! A better fellow never lived, and we
will now in charity draw the sombre curtain of forgetfulness
over his unfortunate death, which occurred at Bradshaw's ferry
on the Colorado river in May, 1863.

The following account of the Bear Flag party I find in my
scrap-book, cut from one of our California papers some years
ago, and it being in such perfect harmony with the facts as I
remember them, I give it as absolutely correct. The " William
Todd" who painted the Bear Flag is at the present writing,
1881, one of the most respected citizens of Los Angeles :

" A great curiosity was awakened by the sudden arrival of a
young man in Monterey from Mazatlan, in a United States
sloop of war, having left Washington in November, 1845. The
young man was Lieutenant Gillespie, of the United States
Navy, and his immediate inquiry was for Captain Fremont.
Learning his route he sets out to overtake him with all haste.
This he succeeds in doing on the southern border of Oregon.
All the certain knowledge we have of his errand from the
United States government to Captain Fremont, we must infer
from the latter's movements. He starts instantly with his
men on his return to California.

"This sudden return could not have been in the interest of

308 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

science. Nor was it for purposes of exploration. Something
more than these must have been determined on in Washington,
in November, 1845, to have necessitated the sending of a spe-
cial messenger with all possible speed such a long distance to
communicate with Captain Fremont. What it was, it is easy
enough now to discover, when we observe that war with Mexico
breaks out on the Rio Grande on the eighth and ninth of May,
1846, the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Plama being
fought on those days. And although news of what was going
on there could not reach here for three months or more, it may,
with substantial truth, be said that the war broke out at nearly
the same time in the Sacramento Valley as on the Rio Grande.

" The sudden reappearance of Captain Fremont and his
camp at the Buttes, near the mouth of the Feather River,
called back from his journey by a special messenger from Wash-
ington, was enough of itself to create instant excitement among
the settlers throughout the northern valleys. All accounts
show that they quickly and numerously visited Captain Fre-
mont's camp, and almost immediately — that is to say, on the
eighth of June, 1846 — a company of men, consisting of trap-
pers and hunters, and in part of men belonging to the exploring
party, went suddenly down to what is now known as Knight's
Landing, in Yolo county, and captured a band of "horses on the
way to General Castro, in Monterey, and sending a defiant
message to Castro by the men in charge, returned with the
horses to Fremont's camp.

11 Of course, this was war, as much as that on the Rio
Grande, and it broke out almost precisely at the same time,
although the places were thousands of miles apart, and it
would take several months for the news to pass from one place
to another. The horses were not l Government horses ' at all,
as has been generally supposed, but they were General Vallejo's,
sent by him, forty head of them, for General Castro's use,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 309

according to previous promise, but with no idea whatever of
mounting a force against foreigners.

"It appears to he very plain that the extraordinary news
from "Washington was what brought Captain Fremont back
from Oregon, and the next act that emanates from his camp is
an act of war. Whether those verbal dispatches authorized him
to countenance these violent proceedings at this time, we have
no means of knowing, except by inference from the fact that
they actually took place with his sanction and co-operation.
It is but just that the responsibility in this matter should rest
exactly where it belongs, and that is, on the shoulders of the
Government of the United States, granting that Captain Fre-
mont did not exceed his authority.

" Captain Fremont was an officer of the United States
Army, and wore its uniform and was acting as he did, after
having received instructions from his Government direct, at
great cost. Therefore it would be necessarily understood,
unless he stated to the contrary, which he did not, that what
he approved the doing of, the United States sanctioned. And
it was so understood, and in that belief the men of that day
acted.

" The taking of the horses necessitated the doing of more,
and the doing of it quickly. This, too, was perceived at Captain
Fremont's camp, and by three o'clock in the afternoon of June
10, a party of twenty men, led by one Merritt, set out to cap-
ture Sonoma. Accessions were made to the party on the way,
and Sonoma was easily taken, for although there were there
ten pieces of artillery, there was n'ot a solitary soldier there
at the time, except General Vallejo's orderly, and in the cap-
ture not a gun was fired.

" General Vallejo says that they made prisoners of himself,
Captain Salvador Vallejo, and Colonel Victor Prudhomme, on
the morning of Sunday, June 14, 1846. Jacob P. Leese accom-
panied the prisoners to Captain Fremont's camp, at General

310 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Vallejo'b request, as interpreter, and on their arrival there, Mr.
Leese was also made prisoner.

"By Captain Fremont's order, these four prisoners were
taken to Slitter's Fort, and Major John Bidwell was directed
by him to see that they were safely kept. Major Bidwell
afterwards turned over his charge to another, and went to
Sonoma, joining the company there and continuing in the
service till the close of hostilities in 1847. The prisoners were
retained at the fort about sixty days, until the change of
flag in the country had been fully effected, when they were
released by order of Commodore Stockton. Of the party of
thirty-three men who took Sonoma, twenty-four were left to
hold possession of ic.

" Organizing themselves into a company, they chose William
B. Ide, Captain. At this moment they notice that the Mexican
flag is still flying at the top of the flag-staff. It is at once
hauled down, but what shall go up in its place ? They are
perplexed. They must have some kind of a flag flying. They
think about a "lone star," but they know that Texas has
appropriated that.

" They are agreed that they will have a star in their flag, but
they tax their wits to have some other device as well. A piece
of common cloth is obtained, and one of the men named Wil-
liam Todd proceeds to paint, from a pot of red paint, a star in
the corner.

" Henry L. Ford, one of the party, proposes to paint on the
center, facing the star, a grizzly bear. This is unanimously
agreed to, and the grizzly bear was painted accordingly.
When it was done, the flag was taken to the flag-staff and
hoisted, amid the hurrahs of the little party. So came into
existence the ' Bear Flag,' which has become historic in Cali-
fornia.

" Accounts vary somewhat relative to it, especially as to the
exact date of its raising ; but as General Vallejo gives the date

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

311

of the capture of Sonoma to have been June 14, 1846, and the
flag was raised on the same day, it seems to be the best
evidence of the true date. Of course a proclamation was issued
in the name of the party, giving reasons for the course they
were taking, and announcing their purposes.

312 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTEli XXVIII.

The Halcys Again — Loss of the " Yankee Blade " — Timely Arrival of the
"Goliah" — The Roughs on the Wrecked Steamer — Gallant Exploit of
Captain Haley in Rescuing the Unfortunates — How the Roughs "Were
Handled on the "Goliah" — The Russian Frigate "Diana" and the
French Man of War " Ambuscade " — The Great Japan Tidal Wave —
Great Destruction of Shipping— The " Sea Bird " Rides Through It.

Haley's were the first names mentioned in this
truthful history, in the first chapter of which I paid
a passing tribute to glorious old Bob, so his friends,
and he had no enemies, called him. In Bob the old saying
that '"'every marked and sterling character has enemies" was
negatived. Bob was a marked character, yet in my long
knowledge of and acquaintance with Bob Haley I never saw
the man that could be his enemy. One reason, and the main
one, I believe, was his great goodness of heart and noble gen-
erosity. A great part of his life was passed as commander of
a steamship, and for several years he ran on our coast, and like
Aleck Bell on the Tombigbee, passengers could travel on his
boat, money or no money. So great a bore did this become to
Bully Wright, who owned one of the steamships that Bob
commanded, that to put a stop to the practice he commenced
to charge him for every deadhead passenger he carried, so the
result was that when poor Bob's wages became due there was
nothing due him. This made no difference whatever, the cap-
tain would carry deadheads any way, even when their passage
was charged to hint by his owners. Alas ! poor Bob Haley !
his likes never trod the deck of a steamer.

Captain Saulsbury Haley,. Bob's brother, was much of the

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 313

same ilk, certainly too much so for his financial credit and his
general pecuniary prosperity. (I believe, in fact I am sure,
that Haley, in his old age, has got over that particular trait.)
I think, however, that Saulsbury was the best manager of 'a
steamship and the most daring seaman I ever knew, and by
your leave, reader, this adventurous Ranger has had some
experience nautical withal, and once made a voyage from New
York to Havana on a canal boat, so in pronouncing Saulsbury
a competent and daring seaman the writer declares his knowl-
edge whereof he speaks. I made many trips up and down the
coast with Captain S. Haley, on one of which I venture to say
he performed one of the most remarkable, dangerous and suc-
cessful nautical feats known in the history of seamanship.

It has often occurred to me that there is a certain defect in
our system of republican government and society-. In ancient
Rome, if a Roman saved the life of a Roman, he was crowned
with laurels, a distinction that singled him out and made him
superior to his fellows. A most proper thing was this to do, a
most honorable incentive to deeds of heroism in flood, field, and
fire. The French, in imitation of their Latin ancestors, reward
acts of distinguished merit by decorations, with the " Cross of
the Legion of Honor." How does our Government reward our
heroes for acts of conspicuous daring ? Why, it just don't
reward them at all, and if our boasted American nation
degenerates into a race of pusilanimous poltroons, then the
Government will reap the reward of their own folly in not con-
ferring marks of honorable distinction, as did the Romans, as
do the French and every other nation under the sun. Now I
repeat, that if the Roman who saved the life of a fellow-Roman
was crowned with laurels, then the hero of the present remi-
niscence, Captain Haley, should wear a crown as ponderous as
tho dome of St. Peter's, or, if a Frenchman, would be entitled
to wear a cross as large as that which surmounts the Church of
Notre Dame. For, reader, in the adventure which I am about

314 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

to relate, Captain Haley, by his bravery, humanity and superior
seamanship, saved the lives of more than five hundred men,
women, and children ; and now I am going to tell you how it
was.

Haley commanded the Goliah, a staunch craft, now, in 1881,
doing good service on Puget Sound. She first kissed the briny
deep at the mouth of the Mississippi, in 1846, having been
built for a tow-boat of great power. The Goliali carried a few
passengers, among whom were Aleck Bell, the author, Captain
Burt, a man of nautical note at the time, also Charley
Mathews, John Brannan, John McMullen, and a party of
adventurers, mostly Texans, armed cap-a-pie, and on their
way as a pioneer prospecting party to Arizona. If I am not
mistaken, Grant Oury was of the party. We sailed past the
•Golden Gate at about four o'clock, having been preceded about
six hours by the great Pacific Mail Steamship Company's
steamer Sonora, and the Yankee Blade, an opposition steamer,
with about 1200 passengers. This was in October. '54. We
steamed beautifully on our way all night, stopping at way
ports during the day, and early on the second morning ran into
a heavy fog bank, ajid were feeling our way along carefully,
when all at once we heard the roar of breakers close on our port
quarter, which created quite an alarm. Haley at once com-
menced to change our course more to starboard, when, above
the roar of the breakers, which was not heavy, we heard
the cry of a thousand human voices for help. It seemed
•as though we were rapidly nearing the breakers and the
place from whence proceeded the cries for help. In a few
minutes we were headed off from the roar of the breakers and
the sounds of human woe. Nothing is more solemnly terri-
fying than to be on shipboard near the breakers and in a fog
bank, but add to this the knowledge of being in close proxi-
mity to a wreck is awe added to terror, and is paralyzing to the
bravest heart. About the time, we were headed off, the fog

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 315

lifted almost as perceptibly as the raising of a curtain, and lo !
within a cable's length lay a large steamer, which proved to be
the Yankee Blade a hopeless wreck, her deck swept by the
breakers and the hundreds of passengers in the rigging, on the
roofs and bridge, clinging to the rail and shrouds, presenting
one of the most awful pictures one can well imagine. The sea
was comparatively smooth, yet the swell was heavy and the
breakers were rough. The wrecked steamer lay considerable
distance from the shore, head on, having settled on a sunken
rock which pierced her bottom amidships, 0:1 the northwest side
of Point Arguello, the most northern point of Point Concep-
cion, and had struck at about_ midnight. She was many miles
out of her direct route, which at the time was ascribed to one
of two causes — one was a great variation in the magnetic
needle caused by a supposed local attraction, and the second
that a crowd of organized roughs had taken passage on board
the ill-fated steamer with intent to beach and rob her, there
being the regular bi-monthly shipment of one and a half
million or more dollars in gold dust, besides that carried by
the passengers; that the roughs had surreptitiously changed
the compass, which caused the stranding of the steamer as we
have found her. This last proposition was supported by the
fact that as soon as the steamer settled, the roughs first broke
into the store-room and captured the liquors, and then com-
menced the pillage of passengers, many of the crew uniting
with the roughs. They also possessed themselves of the boats,
and when sufficient gold had been secured, was placed in a
boat manned by them, and started for the shore. The boat
swamped in the breakers and the pirates and their gold went
down together. The other of the steamer's boats were lost in
the same manner, until but one small boat of capacity to
carry a half dozen people at a time remained. The stern of
the Yankee Blade had settled to thirty feet below the water
level and her head had raised correspondingly high, so that her

316 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

deck line was at an angle of about forty degrees. The
wounded monster labored heavily and was liable at any mo-
ment to break in two amidships. It was a marine impossibility
to approach her with a boat in the ordinary way, and Captain
Haley resolved upon a plan that seemed original and extremely
dangerous to his own vessel, and as expressed by many seamen
on board at the time, as most certain to insure the destruction
of the Goliah.

When remonstrated with on the fool-hardy venture, Captain
Haley said : " It is the only possible way to save those unfor-
tunate people. There are over a thousand of them while there
is less than a hundred of us, and . if they are lost then we will
go together." The plan adopted and carried out was as fol-
lows: The Goliah being headed off backed in as near the wreck
as deemed safe, and a buoy was attached to a line, dropped
overboard and drifted to and was secured and drawn on board
the Yankee Blade, to which was attached the ship's great
hawser which, in turn, was hauled on board the Goliah, and
when safely secured steam was turned on and the hawser was
drawn taut, then the anchors of the Goliah were carried
ahead and cast, and heaving ahead on the windlas, as well as
the steam propelling force, drew that hawser as taut as a
fiddle string. The next thing was to swing one of the Goliah's
boats by loops to this hawser, attach a line to one end of the
boat, float the end of the line on board the wrecked steamer, by
which the boat was drawn over, sometimes being suspended
high above the water, and having another rope attached to her
she was drawn back to the Goliah laden with living freight.
And Oh ! such freight as came off in the first few trips of our
hammock-like craft. The roughs had full control on board
the unfortunate craft, and were the first to be saved. Haley
roared through his trumpet to the captain of the Yankee
Blade, " Send the women and children off first." Still the
roughs must be thinned out before the officers could control the

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 317

debarkation. In an hour one hundred roughs were on board
the Goliah, and the women and children commenced to cross
the bridge in a lively manner, and soon it became necessary to
commence to dispose of our accumulated cargo of living freight.
The two remaining boats of the Goliah having found a safe
lauding place, now commenced to remove the accumulating
cargo to the land; for bear in mind, reader, the Goliah was, as
compared with the wrecked monster, a mere launch. Up to
this time, however, the Goliah 's people had not heard of the
roughs and their piratical acts on board the Yankee Blade.
However, those who had come on board took possession of the
cabins, including the ladies', and when requested by Captain
Haley to vacate in favor of the rescued women and chil-
dren informed him that they had commanded " the Yankee
Blade and while on board the Goliah would do as they
thought proper." Haley remonstrated with them in vain, and
being informed by a lady passenger of their character and
doings on board the wreck, took a most decided step to subject
them to absolute control. In the meantime the sea rolled, and
the staunch old Goliah, God bless her, strained, groaned and
writhed in agony as a living victim when stretched upon a
rack, and all on board thought she would be pulled in pieces
Haley called on Aleck Bell and asked him to organize in one
compact body, make a sudden assault on the roughs and drive
them forward into the steerage and place them under guard,
but in no case was a revolver to be fired, unless in absolute
self-defense. "Hit them over the heads," said Haley, "but
don't shoot; I desire this to be a bloodless victory." Still the
successful transfer of passengers went bravely ,on. Soon the
armed Goliah' s passengers, under Aleck Bell, quietly (all who
were not seasick), by a successful manoeuvre, took possession of
the after end of the cabin and Aleck gave the order, "All of
the men in this cabin will go forward to the steerage; the cabin
is to be exclusively devoted to the ladies and children." No

318 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

one moved. " Charge 'em, boys," said Aleck, at the same time
belting; a rough bully on the head with his revolver, and "at
'em" it was. The onset was so sadden, so unexpected, so
different from what they looked for, that they at once gave
way, and like sheep were driven into the steerage, where John
McMullen, with a picked guard, kept them until Captain
Burt and Charley Mathews, both passengers, in command of
boats, were ready to commence removing the rapidly accumu-
lating living cargo to the providentially found landing place.
Then the roughs were marched out of the steerage in detach-
ments through files armed with revolvers, placed in the Goliah's
boats and sent on shore.

All day the transfer of passengers went on, without an acci-
dent ; all day the gallant Goliah groaned, labored and creaked,
with waves sometimes breaking over her bows and washing her
decks. Still no accident had occurred, and at sunset the last
soul on board the wreck had been safely transferred to the
Goliah, nearly half of whom had been retransferred to the land,
with water and provisions enough landed with them to do them
for a day or two, and this brilliant nautical feat was a splendid
success. But none too soon, for by this time the wind had
commenced to blow, and by dark had become a gale, and by
the time the Goliah was well clear of her dangerous neighbor,
and before dark obscured our vision the gallant Yankee Blade,
with her golden treasure, broke in two amidships, and sunk in
deep water. The gallant Goliah, with her happy crew, brave
commander, and thankful passengers, after a rough night of it,
reached Santa Barbara, discharged a part of her human freight,
and thence to San Pedro, where more were put on shore, while
the remainder were taken to San Diego and left, and the
staunch old steamer hurried back, and took on board all that
had been landed on the beacli at the place of the wreck, and
carried them in safety to San Francisco, all without a single
casualty ; and save some forty or fifty lives that were lost in

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 319

the swamping of the boats of the Yankee Blade before the-
Goliah arrived, all of that hive of human beings were carried
back in safety to San Francisco. Will the reader now agree
with the author, that the gallant Captain Haley was entitled
to a reward of honor equal to any ever conferred by ancient
Rome or modern France ? And had he been an Englishman,,
the Cross of Victoria, at least, would have been conferred on
him, to be treasured up as a reminder to his descendants of the
noble deed of their ancestor.

Haley commanded the Sea Bird in '52. He commanded
her again in '55 and '56. That floating beauty came near, in
'55, sharing the fate of a Russian frigate, a United States war
ship, and a large number of other vessels that were lost, and
from the same cause, to wit: the great Japan tidal wave.
Some of our readers will remember that early in '55, the Rus-
sian frigate Diana sailed northward along our coast and
entered the harbor of San Francisco, which created quite a
sensation, as the French frigate Ambuscade was then -riding
quietly at anchor in the harbor, and the Diana dropped her
mud hooks within pistol shot of the Ambuscade. We all
thought they would go beyond the legal marine league and
have a pitched battle, the Crimean war bsing then in full
blast.

Not so, however. The two warlike antagonists frowned on
each other, and that was all. except that when it happened
that sailors from the two hostile craft would meet on shore,
broken heads and bloody noses would be the result, until the
authorities intervened and it was mutually agreed that when the
Parlez Vous went on shore the Bears on board the Diana would
be notified by signal and remain on board until the French
sailors returned. The Diana people did the same in respect to
the Ambuscade and everything moved quietly along until one
day the Diana beat to quarters, hove up her anchor, played
some warlike Russian air, spread her sails and proudly passed

320 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGEK.

out of the Golden Gate. All San Francisco was on the tiptoe
of excitement expecting, as a matter of course, the Ambuscade
would go forth and engage her. Such, however, was not the
case. The Ambuscade rode quietly at her anchor and the
Diana sailed northward touching at Sitka, and at last crossed
over and came to anchor in the harbor of Yokohama in ten
fathoms of water. Now this may have been in the latter part
of the year '55, but at the time there occurred in the Japan
Islands some tremendous earthquakes which made match wood
of the Diana and left her and her anchors on dry land where
before was ten fathoms of water. There was great destruction
of shipping in the Japan seas. A United States war ship was
lost and hundreds of vessels were never heard from, and this
great earthquake in Japan caused a tidal wave which reached
and struck our coast in thirty-eight hours, traveling at the rate
of over two miles a minute. The tidal gauge at San Diego
showed a rise or twelve feet in one night, a most remarkable
circumstance.

This immense wave struck our little sea swan, so she should
have been called, at about daylight off Point Pedro, seventeen
miles S. E. of the Golden Gate, she being the only vessel out-
side the heads at the time, and the only one that ever gave
any account of its appearance and effect. -Haley sat beside the
pilot-house and was sleeping in his chair. First Officer How-
land was on watch and saw in the dim distance the coming
danger and awoke the captain. When thus seen it was appar-
ently about ten miles off and looked like an immense black
cloud, such as we see in the tropics. Whatever it was, danger
therefrom was imminent. The passengers were aroused and
ordered to prepare themselves and stand ready with their
life-preservers. The brave little steamer was brought to and
made to look the danger square in the face and by the time
this was done the black, white crested roaring wall of water
was almost upon them. Ports were hastily closed, windows

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 321

and doors shut, hatches battened down, and everything put in
ship-shape to meet the unlooked for danger and ride through
or go under it and down forever. Very little swell preceded it.
Howland, assisted by the Quartermaster, took the wheel, the
watch caught on to the rigging, and as the roaring wrath
of mighty ocean towered in its threatening grandeur above
them, Haley shouted " Steady, Howland, steady ! " " Steady
it is, sir ! " was the firm response, and in a moment the decks
of the gallant steamer were deluged with rushing water. The
vessel was absolutely .submerged; the mighty force of the ocean
was over her, under and around her, roaring, hissing, lashing
the sides of the frail bark, thumping her bottom and sweeping
her deck; her boats were smashed, torn from their lashings and
swept away as though they were snowflakes. The poor craft
trembled, groaned and struggled like a living thing to free
herself from her mighty foe. Man was then made to feel his
utter insignificance in midst of the mighty ocean when lashed
into angry fury by '"'Him who holds the sea in the palm of His
hand." In a few minutes the watery scourge had done its
worst, and like a thing of life the proud little sea queen shook
the. billows from her palpitating bosom and was free.

322 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XXIX.

More Pioneer Staging — Banning Again — A Rough Ride — Dangerous
Driving — Fort Tejon and Its Commander — W. S. Hancock, A. Q. M. —
The Kern River Excitement — A Grand Rush — The First Train Going
North — Don David Alexander — A Reminiscence of Cerbol Barelas and
the Path-Finder — Stoneman and Others.

first chapter of this history was in part devoted
to staging between San Pedro and the Angel City.
Banning was unceremoniously presented to the reader
therein with far less ceremony than his great importance
demanded. It is true that in a subsequent chapter this
pioneer hero was brought to the front of our Fourth of July
Phalanx in the memorable and patriotic celebration at San
Pedro in '53, and was designated as General, although at that
time Banning was not a General, unless, perchance, like Phil
Sheridan and Napoleon Bonaparte Forest, he was born with
two stars on each of his shoulders, the truth of which I am
willing to asseverate and maintain to the bitter end. Banning
in early times could ride farther with less fatigue than any
man I ever knew, notwithstanding he was never a light weight.
He could also drive a stage, six-in-hand, faster and over
rougher roads and over places where no roads existed than
any driver who ever cracked whip or pulled the ribbons.
When Fort Tejon was established the firm of Alexander &
Banning wished to run a six-horse stage over an old Mexican
pack trail, and when the whole country declared the impossi-
bility of such an enterprise, and when no driver could be found
with sufficient hardihood to assume such responsibility, Ban-
ning willed the thing to be done, and mounted the box in

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 323

person and drove the first . stage that ever went out of the
Valley of the Angels to astonish the aborigines in the moun-
tain fastnesses beyond. At the time, the trail going over the
San Fernando pass was a rocky acclivity, difficult of ascent by
even a pack mule, and descending to the valley beyond with a
descent of equal abruptness. Standing on the summit and look-
ing northward a precipice of many hundred feet lay before you.
By facing about you dizzily marvel at how you reached the
rocky summit.

In December '54 Phineas Banning sat on the box of his
Concord stage, to which were harnessed a half dozen well fed,
panting and foaming mustangs. He had succeeded in reaching
the summit of the San Fernando, and the question among
his nine wondering passengers who had toiled up the moun-
tain on foot was, how that stage could ever descend, all
declaring it an act of madness to attempt it. Banning
laughingly assured them that it "was all right; that a
man who couldn't drive a stage safely down that hill was no
driver at all, and should confine himself to ox-teaming in the
valley." Now he cracks his whip, tightens his lines, whistles
to his trembling mustangs, and urges them to the brink oi
the precipice, and in a moment they are going down ! down !
down ! racketty clatter bang ! Sometimes the horses ahead of
the stage, and sometimes the stage ahead of the horses, all,
however, going down ! down with a crash ! Finally, the con-
glomeration of chains, harness, coach, mustangs and Banning
were found by the pursuing passengers in an inextricable mass
of confusion — contusions, scratches, bruises, batters, cracks and
breaks, forming a general smash and pile up in a thicket of
chaparral at the foot of the mountain.

" Didn't I tell you so," said Banning, "a beautiful descent,
far less difficult than I anticipated. I intended that staging to
Fort Tejon and Kern river should be a success. Gentlemen,
you see my judgment is good."

324 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

However, Banning sent back a courier in hot haste, urging
Don David to send fifty men immediately to repair parts of the
road that he in his descent had knocked out of joint. Twenty-
two years thereafter the S. P. R. R. Company cleared away the
thicket in which Banning made his first stage stand, in exca-
vating their wonderful San Fernando tunnel. This reckless
demonstration of the practicability of staging out of the valley
so stimulated our angel merchants, that they raised a fund of
several thousand dollars, and employe*! such a^ force of men on
the San Fernando, that in February following Don David
Alexander and the writer hereof passed over with a train of
heavy ten-mule teams, which was the first train going north.
We had a terrible time of it, however, and in the San Francis-
quito canon were caught in a snow storm, and were three days
in going one mile, building our road as we advanced.

Lieutenant-Colonel B. L. Beall, 1st Dragoons, with Winfield
Scott Hancock as Quartermaster, and Lieutenant John Pegram
•as Adjutant, founded Fort Tejon in '54. I afterwards, in 1861,
met Pegram at Beverly, in West Virginia, after his surrender to
the Great Western Napoleon at Rich Mountain, Pegram having
commanded the Confederate force at that stronghold, and per-
mitted himself to be most beautifully outflanked and surrounded
by McLellan, who cut a road through the mountains, and
thereby gained his rear. The distress and chagrin of Pegram
was beyond description. He was ambitious, and had resigned
his commission in the old, and accepted a Colonelcy in the new
3,rmy, and to have lost his first command in the way he did was
ovei whelming to his pride. He, however, retrieved himself,
and became quite distinguished as a Confederate Brigadier, and
was killed in one of the great battles fought around Richmond
during the last days of the lost cause. W. S. Hancock,
A. Q. M.. became so brilliantly illustrious that no mention of
him will in this chronicle be necessary.

Col. Beall, however, deserves some consideration. When

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 325

nominal commander at Fort Tejon he was old, seventy years,
and had been on the frontier all his life ; was a case ; indeed
he was a hard case, and as such his fame extended from the
Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean. On account of his
case-hardened character he was seldom permitted to visit
Washington, or any of the Eastern cities. But once upon a
time he went, and so scandalized the sober heads at the capital,
that they hurried him away to fields, in their opinion, more
congenial, beyond the Mississippi.

On that occasion, however, he extended his visit to virtuous
Boston, and was invited to a State dinner presided over by the
Mayor. It was emphatically a Boston dinner — and the world
knows that Boston never goes back on her virtuous record, so
as a consequence, the dinner to which this rollicking old
frontier Colonel was invited was a temperance dinner. When
the guests were seated and dining commenced, Colonel Beall
was astonished at not seeing decanters, bottles, and all of the
paraphernalia of the kind of dinner he had anticipated. Time
wore apace and no bottle appeared. The Colonel became dis-
consolate. It was to him a cruel disappointment. It was
emphatically a dry dinner. Some toasts were dryly given and
dryly responded to. and the Colonel was called upon to respond
to a toast "The Army," but flatly refused, saying that he had
" never made a speech in his life." "Well, then," said the
President, " Colonel, tell us a story; something about the
campaigns through which you have passed." " A story ! " "A
story ! " demanded the dinner party.

" I will tell you the story of 'The Ghost of New Mexico/"

'•' G-ood ! A ghost story," cried the party with due Boston
decorum and gravity.

" Well," began the Colonel, " It was in 1846, the army was
crossing the plains in the march on New Mexico, and went into
camp, dry and dusty, within two days' march of Sante Fe. It
was late when our tents were pitched and the sentinels posted

326 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

for the night. We were over vigilant, as being so near the New
Mexican capital we didn't know at what moment the enemy's
cavalry might pounce upon us. The night was dark and dis-
mal; the wind blew in fitful gusts and the tents fluttered and
flapped, and a general gloom seemed to pervade the whole
encampment. To relieve my own disquiet I visited the
marquee of a neighboring officer, and found quite a number of
visitors, who, like myself, were in quest of something wherewith
to sooth the dismal cravings of the spirit. A game of seven-up
was proposed for liquor, and on the first wager being won and
lost it was discovered that some untoward accident had befallen
the sutler and not a drop was to be had for love or money.
We looked at each other in dismay — a night without something
to drink ! Such a direful calamity had not been contemplated
by the most despondent 'of our party, and the announcement
was a blow; indeed it was, gentlemen. Still, we agreed to play
on, and if by the favor of providence a supply should ever be
reached then each loser would pay up and we would make
amends for this night of dire disappointment. The g;ime went
on dolefully.

" The wind continued to blow, and the tent rocked to and
fro in its determined efforts to keep its pins, the sentries paced
their beats, the coyotes howled, the horses neighed, and the
mules let off brays of solemn distress. It was midnight — the
hour when ghosts do walk abroad. We played, but scarce a
word was spoken. My back was toward the opening of the
tent, and instinctively I turned around, feeling that some one
was entering, and oh ! horror ! My blood froze in my veins, my
eye-balls almost burst from th^ir sockets, and my tongue clove
to the roof of my mouth, as I vainly tried to speak. I beheld
standing within the marquee a tall, gaunt form, clad in the
habiliments of the grave, its bony arm extended, and its finger
raised in solemn admonition. Like myself, my comrades sat
frozen and speechless. Not a word, save those sepulchral

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 327

sounds of doleful import which came from the ghost. It
spoke" — and the Colonel, in apparent exhaustion, with his
hands clasped upon his breast, leaned back in his chair and
groaned.

"What did it say ?" was the general inquiry.

" What did it say ? " echoed the Colonel. " What should it
have said ? It spoke such words as had never before been
heard by any of that congregation of warriors, such words as I
fear to repeat, such words as I hope never more to hear on this
earth " — and again the Colonel groaned.

" What did it say ? " queried the excited listeners.

"What did it say?" re-echoed the Colonel. "It said:
' Gentlemen ! Oil ! gentlemen ! gentlemen ! it's a long time
between DRINKS ! ' '

It is needless to say that for once Boston relaxed its gravity,
and that for once wine flowed freely at the winding up of a
Boston dinner party ; because even the people of Boston could,
and did on that occasion, take a liquid hint, and Boston never
does things by halves, and as a consequence liquidated liberally.
Col. Beall ever spoke in terms of affectionate remembrance of
that liquid Boston dinner party.

In saying Colonel Beall was the nominal commander at Fort
Tejon, the same can be said as to- the Quartermaster, the truth
being, as I verily believe, that the gallant General Phineas
Banning ran the post, as he did his supply trains and his six-
horse stages. He ran Fort Tejon as in yore he ran San Pedro,
and as he always has Wilmington, city and harbor. Whatever
Banning suggested at the fort was done, and nothing was done
unless he was consulted. From Fort Tejon to Los Angeles is
120 miles — as rough a road as is to be found anywhere. Ban-
ning used to ride it in a day on horseback, leaving the fort after
sunrise and arriving at Los Angeles sometimes by four o'clock
p. M. I make this statement on personal knowledge.

Banning was always lucky. In his reckless staging nine

328 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

men out of every ten would have broken their bones, if noth- '
ing worse. He once made a miraculous escape from a frightful
marine disaster. He owned a pretty little steamer called the
Ada Hancock, before the harbor improvements at "Wilmington,
used for carrying passengers to the steamers at their anchorage.
On one of her trips down the bay her boiler exploded, killing
Captain Seely of the coast steamer and many of the passengers.
Banning was not blown over the clouds, because it was on a
cloudless day, but he was blown high enough and far enough
to land him on a sand bar safe and sound. The General was
born at Wilmington, Delaware, and is fifty-one years old.

Now to come back to Don David Alexander, of whom I
spoke in a former chapter, and of his story-telling talents.
On that trip to Kern River with those heavy teams, in our
camps at night, after strong coffee, before a blazing, com-
fortable fire, with a good cigar, Don David forgeting the
terrible annoyances and harassing labors of the day, and his
oft-repeated declaration that "this is only a pack-mule
country, that none other than a madman would attempt the
passage of these mountains with wagons, and if he did any
more freighting hitherward it would be in the only sensible,
practicable way, by pack-mules." * * * * ° One year
and a half more than a quarter of a century has passed and
Don David, hale and hearty, strong and stubborn, now whirls
over his "pack-mule country" in the palace cars of that mar-
vel of the age, the Southern Pacific Railroad Company. The
memory of Don David may not be as strong and enduring as
his rawhide constitution, and I take pleasure in reminding him
of the wonderful change that has taken place in the manner
and time of traversing the roughest of our southern Sierras,
and point to him what science, money and well directed enter-
prise can do and has done for even a "pack-mule country."
Forgetting the troubles of the day under the exhilaration of
coffee and cigar, Don David would tell us a story, and on one-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 329

occasion he told me of his capture, imprisonment and parol
by the Californians.

During the war between the United States and Mexico Don
David was made prisoner at the Chino Ranch, with the com-
pany under Capt. B. D. Wilson. Cerbol Barelas and Diego
Sepulveda commanded the captors of this party, most of whom,
having lived so long under the Mexican flag, and having par-
taken of all of the good things of this angel land, were looked
upon by their irate captors as traitors deserving death ; conse-
quently there was a general clamor that the traitor gringos
should be shot. At this point as noble a character came to the
front as ever wielded a lance or wore knightly spur. Santa
Ana. President of Mexico, a man first among the rulers of the
earth, of superior learning, of pure Castilian blood, a warrior
of renown, cast a blot, a stain, an indelible blotch, upon the
fame of Mexico, by his treacherous cruelty in butchering, in
cold blood, the captive partisans of the Texas revolution.
Cerbol Barelas, a native of Los Angeles, a man whose only
education consisted in superior horsemanship, throwing the
lasso, and the use of the lance, redeemed his countrymen from
the stigma cast upon them by Santa Ana. When the wild
warriors of the California plains clamored for the blood of the
captive gringos, Don Cerbol — yes, Don Cerbol ! a Don in the
fullest meaning of the word — interposed for their protection,
saying that while he lived, and could wield a lance in their
defence, not one gringo should be harmed ; " that they had
surrendered to him, that his honor and good faith were
plighted, and on the honor of a man he would defend them ;"
and during the four months of captivity endured by these
gringos, the noble Cerbol watched over them as though they
had been his own children. Sometimes, with a few trusty fol-
lowers, with his sacred charge, he would conceal himself in the
mountains, to escape the wrath of his less chivalrous country-
men. Alas ! poor Cerbol ! your honest heart has long since

380 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

become food for worms. The gringos have forgotten thee
and thy noble generosity, save the few survivors of thy generous
protection, who will soon meet thee at the judgment seat of
Him who faileth not in His rewards.

If my memory is right, Don David, after his capture at
Chino, was paroled and became the guest and protege of the
Mission priest at San Fernando, and at about the beginning of
the year '47 rumors floated along and reached San Fernando of
the coming, like a northern blast, of the gringos of the upper
country under the immortal "Pathfinder."

The rumors were that the coming torrent of vandal invasion
swept everything before it, showing no respect for age, sex, con-
dition, or the rights of private property. The god-father who
had so hospitably sheltered and protected Don David inquired
of him if it would not be better to betake himself to the
mountains for safety until the tornado had swept by. Don
David assured him on the honor of an American that these
rumors of outrage and pillage were false. " You judge these
men who fill the ranks of General Fremont from your own
standpoint," said the priest. "You forget the class of men
they are — hunters, trappers, outlaws, half-breed Indians, French
voyageurs and all of the mountain adventurers that could be
collected from the Columbia river to Monterey." Don David
answered that notwithstanding that many of the men forming
Fremont's command were, or might be, bad characters, that
Colonel Fremont was an officer of high rank in the army of
the United States, and that for him to permit such acts of
pillage as was charged against his command would be more
than his commission was worth. Upon this assurance the good
father concluded to stand by his altar and trust to his saints
and the chivalry of the Pathfinder. At about four o'clock one
afternoon the "storm" struck San Fernando and made things
fly, but soon it subsided and things went well enough for
the night. In the morning the battalion mounted and rode

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 331

rapidly over the twelve mile stretch of plain to the Cahuenga
pass, where an intrenched army with frowning artillery con-
fronted it. And right there at that old adobe house, a
part of the walls of which are yet standing, at the opening
of this famous pass that was not, jet might have been, a
modern Thermopjlce, was achieved the greatest military tri-
umph known to history, eclipsing in brilliancy the battle of
Providencia itself. As Fremont approached Cahuenga he was
met by a truce party, and a parley ensued, and the treat}
of Cahuenga was the result. Colonel Fremont was the high
contracting party on the part of the United States, and Gen-
eral Andres Pico represented the Republic of Mexico. General
Pico proposed to disband his army at Cahuenga. the officers
retaining their private arms. All of. the arms, artillery, and
munitions of war belonging to the Mexican Government at
Cahuenga should be delivered to Colonel Fremont, and he was
to be permitted to march without opposition to Los Angeles.
That after the treaty was signed, General Pico was to have two
hours in which to stack his arms and retire his forces from the
fortifications. Then Fremont was to march in and possess the
spoil. On the other hand, Colonel Fremont agreed that the
army under General Pico should be permitted to retire peace-
ably to their homes, and should there remain unmolested, and
that certain officers who. under Cerbol Barelas had in Septem-
ber previous violated their paroles theretofore given should be
pardoned; and to this the gringo commander pledged the faith
of the gringo government.

The treaty was signed in duplicate, each high contracting
party retaining one copy. When this was done, General Pico,
with not over forty followers retired from the fortifications at
Cahuenga, and the gringo conqueror marched in to reap the
reward of his victory.

Two batteries of artillery, consisting of a dozen California
live oak logs, mounted on so many native carretas, became the

332 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

spoils of the victors. One old blunderbuss that, from the date
graven on its brazen barrel, suggested former service in the
seige of Granada, two old flint-lock Spanish horse-pistols, and
about forty Mexican ox-goads with flaming red pennons
thereto attached, made a full inventory of the spoils which, by
virtue of the great treaty of Cahuenga, passed forever from the'
hands of humbled Mexico and went to enrich the arsenals of
the gringo nation. Smothering his pent-up wrath, the hero of
Cahuenga put spurs to his Cayuse charger, and with the fires
of revenge burning in his bosom, followed in hot haste by his
buckskin batallion, hurried on to Los Angeles, where booty and
beauty awaited their coming in plentiful profusion. With
their wild war song of :

" Hail to the Chief who stole the injun's blanket,"

the northern barbarians, with the Pathfinder at their head,
entered the Angel city to suffer another disappointment,
more direful than that of Cahuenga. They found that the
"army of the west," under Brigadier General W. S. Kearney,
consisting of U. S. dragoons and the Mormon battalion under
Lieutenant-Colonel Philip St. George Cook, of the Regular
Army, and some marines and volunteers, had been quietly
settled down in the Angel capital for near a fortnight and were
preserving the most perfect order, and the angels of peace were
as secure in person and property as though they were domicil-
iated in orderly Boston. The Pathfinder, however, not at all
abashed and determined to carry out the role of conquerer,
obtained the elegant and commodious house of the patriotic
Captain Alex. Bell, the same building that now stands at
the corner of Los Angeles and Aliso streets, then the
best house in California, quartered his men on the ground
floor and up stairs hung up his hat, issued a proclamation
and declared himself Governor of California by virtue of
the conquest of the country at Cahuenga, gathered around
him some dilapidated Dons and questionable Donas, gave an

REMINISCENCES OF A EANGER. 333

inaugural ball, and enacted in miniature the same part that
he played so grandly at St. Louis fifteen years thereafter.
General Kearney the dignified, Phillip St. George Cook,
the beau ideal of the cavalry man, and Major Emery, of
the Engineer Corps, at first treated this attempt to play the
Governor -as & second edition of Sancho Panza in his govern-
ment of Barataria, were soon brought to regard the matter in
a more serious light, and General Kearney felt constrained to
place the Governor under arrest and take him overland to
Washington. General Kearney made an order tha,t on the
inarch the Pathfinder would be permitted to encamp within a
certain distance of the General, and the same was maintained
on the long journey.

When the Governor was well seated in his authority, as he
thought, he sought out a Mexican tailor, who in a brief space
of time assisted the Governor to don a pair of open-legged pan-
taloons (calzoneros), of parti-colored cloth, red. green, and gold,
interspersed with scallops of purple velvet, with silver bell but-
tons extending from hip to bottom. Under the calzoneros he
wore Mexican drawers of delicate white muslin, with each leg a
yard wide ; shoes of black buckskin, with very short round toes
and high heels. Over his calzonzillos, or drawers, and reaching
to the knee, he wore the Mexican bota, made of leather, em-
broidered in gold, silk, and silver, into which the Governor
thrust his silver-hilted knife. Around his gubernatorial waist
he wore a gaudy Mexican sash, at least five yards long. A
very short embroidered jacket was donned by his Excellency.
A red vicuna hat, with gold cords and tassels, surmounted the
head of California's gringo Governor, and, as he thought, com-
pleted his expensive costume, and cost somebody several
hundred dollars. The Governor, however, was mistaken, as
the sequel will show ; his costume was not yet complete. One
of the Lugos, on beholding this wonderful get-up, determined
to outdo it, and in a few days appeared upon the streets with

334 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

a suit of clothes which, with his saddle and horse trappings,
cost over $2000. Besides his gorgeous sash, he wore, tied low
down on his loins, a great red bandana handkerchief, with the
points hanging down behind like a swallow-tail coat. The
Governor saw and gazed upon this strutting jackdaw as it
flitted by, and until it faded from view in the dim distance ;
then, pondering abstractedly for a few minutes, hied himself
to a Mexican dry goods store, purchased two bandanas in one,
attached them to his rear in lieu of coat-tails by tying the cor-
ners in front, surveyed himself for a time, and walked into the
street with every evidence of feeling that he was a conqueror,
every inch of him. The gringos were justly proud of their
Governor's Mexican costume.

The author does not wish to detract from the meritorious
services of Colonel Fremont in the conquest of California. But
his services have been so overrated, that persons not familiar
with the truths of history, believe that no one other than
Fremont had aught to do in the reduction of this golden land to
the dominion of the Stars and Stripes. For instance, the
world believes, and history holds out, that the ancient fortifica-
tions which overlook our Angel City, were constructed by
Fremont, while the truth is they were constructed by General
George Stoneman, and the late General Davidson, alternately
relieving each other. Also, that the ancient flag-staff at
Sonoma was raised by Fremont, while the truth again is that
in 1851, General Stoneman, with strong and patriotic blows,
wielded the axe that felled the tree that has for thirty years
withstood storm and decay, and that he did most of the
manual labor in raising that venerable pole. History also gives
to Fremont all the honor attending the surrender at Cahuenga,
and the writer alleges his belief to be that the Pathfinder is
rightfully entitled to all the honor there was in it.

The true significance of the Treaty of Cahuenga was this .
Early in 1846, Commodore Stockton occupied Los Angeles,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 335

established himself, and paroled certain Mexican officers, not
to bear arms during the war unless exchanged. Now certain
among these officers, in violation of their paroles, took up arms
under Cerbol Barelas, in September, and drove the garrison
under Gillespie out of Los Angeles, captured Wilson's com-
mand at Chino, and reconquered this country to Mexico.

General Kearney having crossed the plains (after the sharp
cavalry encounter with General Andres Pico at San Pasqual
near the Mission San Luis Rey), formed a junction with
Commodore Stockton at San Diego, marched on Los Angeles,
and after the battles of San Gabriel and La Mesa, entered and
occupied Los Angeles on the 8th of January, 1847.

Those officers who had violated their paroles were now in a
bad fix — they either had to flee the country or run the chance
of being arrested and shot.

General Andres Pico who was yet in the saddle, hearing of
Fremont's coming, met him at Cahuenga, and throwing dust
in his eyes as to the re-occupation of Los Angeles, induced him
to make a treaty and bind the United States to the pardon of
those officers.

It was a masterly stroke on the part of Don Andres and
reflected great credit on him as a diplomat, he having thereto-
fore demonstrated his prowess on the field. Don Andres was a
great humorist, and took huge delight in laughing over his
Quaker demonstrations at Cahuenga.

General Kearney, in his dispatch to the government, said
that he thought the pacification of the country demanded his
approval of Fremont's Cahuenga treaty, and on that ground
he did approve it.

336 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XXX.

A Ranger Antiquarian — A Pompeii at Our Back Door — Tehachepi — The
Robin Hood of the Windy Pass — The Last Relic of a By-gone Race —
The Valley of Perpetual Bloom — The Ventarron— The Phantom City.

•

RANGER is not an antiquarian, and when one writes
a book of reminiscences he is expected to confine him-
self to the subject of broils, raids, and frontier life
generally. 13ut, notwithstanding, the author is going to hazard
the assertion that the traces of ancient civilization found scat-
tered over the vast plateau extending from the Rio Grande to
the Pacific Ocean, as also the ruins found further south, in
Mexico and Central America, many of which he has examined,
are not of such remote antiquity as the scientific searchers for
ancient ruins would lead the world to believe. That either the
Casa Grande and kindred remains found on the Gila and in
other parts of Arizona, or Palenque, Quiche, Copan or Quirigua
found in Central America, are of an antiquity greater than the
advent of the Spanish conquerors, the writer is constrained to
question. That all of those places, and many others, the
remains of which are to be found in all parts of Central
America, were of very ancient origin, there is no kind uf ques-
tion ; but that they were deserted by their inhabitants, or that
they had ceased to be the abiding places of a highly civilized
and intelligent race of people when Columbus discovered
America, is not supported by the test of practical experience.
Antiquarians, in their eager search for the remote, overlook all
evidence of the modern. It is well known to practical persons
that timber rots and decays with remarkable rapidity in the

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 337

humid climate of Central America, yet timber is found in the
ruins of Palenque, as also in other ruins in Central America,
and in as good a state of preservation as some found in old
bridges of masonry intermingled with timber, built by the
Spaniards after the conquest of the country. The theory that
those cities were in ruins, and were enveloped in the mists of
antiquity before the coming of the Spaniard, is not supported,
when subjected to the tests of common practical experience.

We may apply a plain, practical test as to the remote anti-
quity of ruins and remains found in Arizona. It is well known
that violent storms with drifting sands prevail in that country,
yet, the traces of irrigating canals are to be found wherever
large or considerable streams of water are contigious to exten-
sive bodies of arable lands. How long would the trace of a
ditch remain in such a country, or even here in California where
violent winds are scarcely known ? Would they endure the
corrosions of time and storms for one hundred years, two hun-
dred years, or at the furthest three hundred years? With the
writer's observations in that direction, he most emphatically
maintains that they would not. That these old canals were
the property of those who inhabited these ruined places, all are
agreed. Then why not at once discard the preposterous theory
that the ruins of Arizona verge even on the borders of remote
antiquity, and accept the one that by Spanish spoliation and
conquest the former people of Arizona have been driven from
their civilized abodes and become the prey of the fierce Apache,
or, that pestilence, famine, or some other reasonable cause has,
left their lands waste.and their habitations and temples in ruins.
Antiquarians not only look too far, but they generally go too
far for common sense practical research. For instance, if one of
our angels should be inclined to investigate the vestiges of
antiquity, he would hie himself to the Pyramids, and take a
look at the mysterious characters engraven on those time-
honored remains, and return to us looking as wise as an owl,
22

338 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

and would really know as much of the Pyramids as did the
donkey or the dragoman who carried him thither. On his
return he might take in Pompeii and Herculaneura, and hy the
time he reached his modern- angel home he would at least feel
entitled to a degree with A. M. attached to his former title, if
any be had, and if he undertook to lecture to us wondering
angels on Pompeii and Herculaneum, he' could tell us just ahout
as much of the wonders of those long buried cities as could the
dead dog of the 2,000 years dead Diornede. But if our angel
antiquarian should shoulder his shovel and walk out of our
back door into the Mojave desert and go to work excavating,
he could unearth a modern Herculaneum that has lain buried
not more than three hundred years, and about the great buried
city of the Mojave, the center of a civilization not remote, but
still a populous city, situated in the "valley of perpetual
bloom," buried and hidden from the face of man only about
one hundred and fifty years before the Jesuitical explorers first
set their sandled feet in this valley of the angels ; to write
what he knows, or has learned of that buried 'mystery, will now
be the task of this antique Ranger.

A tradition has existed, and really exists now, that the
Mojave desert was once a fruitful, beautiful and well watered
valley, that the mountains, those we call the Sierra Madre,
but which in point of fact are the Sierra Nevada, were covered
with soil and verdure, that there came a terrible wind that
denuded the mountains of their soil, blew the rocks bare and
filled up the beautiful Mojave beyond, leaving it the howling
waste as seen to-day, the home of the coyote, the hideous,
burning plain of drifting sands, whereon so many ill-fated
miners have wandered and perished of heat and thirst. Don
Francisco Garcia, the oldest man in the City of Angels, who
came here more than eighty years ago a Spanish soldier, and yet
marches on foot in our patriotic processions, says he conversed
with many Indians, who remembered hearing their ancestors

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 339

speak of the ventarron and substantiated by oral evidence, on
their own knowledge, what has passed into vague tradition.

The reader has of course heard of Tehachepi, -'The Windy
Pass." The immortal Daniel Boone, vagabondizing on the then
verge of American civilization, won a name immortal by becom-
ing the first white man of Kentucky. To be the first white
man of Kentucky at the present time would be -a consummation
devoutly to be wished, because Kentucky is the land of giants,
and to be first among giants is, to say the least, a very big
thing, but to have been the first man when old Daniel Boone
was there was no great shakes, because Boone was by himself
and alone, and skulking from the Indians, and didn't so much
as have a '"'nigger to boss," and came within just one man of
being nobody. So this writer could never see why that old
squatter should have been so lauded for being the first white
man of Kentucky, when at the time there was no second white
man. In 1854 this adventurous Hanger became the first white
man of Tehachepi, and like the immortal Boone, was the only
one. It is a great thing, however, to be the first white man of
any country, and this Eanger maintained all of that regal dig-
nity until the advent into that now classic spot, of Jack King,
when the author yielded his claim in favor of Jack, and then
he became the first white man of Tehachepi. When the writer
was the first white man of Tehachepi there was none other
nearer than San Fernando, more than a hundred miles, so he
experienced little difficulty in maintaining his position, espe-
cially as contrary to the case of Boone the three Indian families
who" inhabited the valley were extremely friendly. After giving
a brief description of that classic locality the antiquarian.
Ranger will inform the world of what he learned concerning
the buried city of Mojave while occupying the honorable posi-
tion of being the first white man, and as a preface to wh?.t he
intends to relate he will state as a fact, based on information
and general acceptation that, since the coming of the gringo

340 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the buried city of the Mojave could be traced on the desert by
its outcropping walls, and if sought for could without doubt be
yet definitely located. Is this not a field promising a harvest
of results to any of our antiquarian angels ? Have we not a
Pompeii or Herculaneum at our very back door ?

Tehachepi, at the time this truthful historian enjoyed the
proud distinction of being the "first man," was the most beau-
tiful and romantic place that is possible to conceive of a region
so elevated and so windy. The valley proper, or pass, is a wide
open plain, and the grass, only trodden and cropped by the
innumerable herds of antelope and deer that inhabited the
region, was most abundant, beautiful and contiguous and
smaller valleys, romantic canons, forests of pine, groves of ever-
green and spreading oaks, purling brooks, gushing springs,
green meadows, verdant slopes and craggy hights, went to
make a picture of arcadian beauty that would have raised the
enthusiasm of a landscape painter to the seventh heaven of
bliss. Tehachepi has since been, and is yet, the paradise of the
'Stock raiser, and is settled by a hardy set of frontiersmen, who
promise fair in the future to raise up a race of mountaineers,
ileet of foot and strong of limb, to stand as a bulwark of liberty
when the effeminate angels inhabiting this modern elysiimi
have faltered in its defence, and have retired from the conflict
to their orange groves, to lead a life of indolent ease. Teha-
chepi at the present time produces cattle ; in the future it will
produce men. The rugged surrounding mountains, the purity
of the water, the extreme healthfulness of the climate, the
purifying winds, sweeping through caiion and valley, from the
Tulare valley on the west to the arid Mojave desert on the
east, its elevation, 3000 feet above the sea level, its magnificent
springs of mineral water, the climate never hot and never cold,
but always windy, gives promise that Tehachepi will, in the
future, grow a race of physical giants.

The great Southern Pacific Railroad, in surmounting the

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. o41

Tehachepi, performed one of the most curious engineering
somersaults known to the science of railroad building, and by
its great combination of tunnels and loops has given a fame to
Tehachepi never before enjoyed. During the dark days of the
civil war the locality gained an evil repute on account of one
patriotic citizen named Mason, who collected a gang of cut-
throats, unfurled to the balmy breeze the three-barred banner
of the lost cause, declared fur the Southern Confederacy, and
robbed and murdered all who failed to pay him tribute. The
gang became the terror of the country, ruined the reputation of
the windy pass, and where the mad career of the gay guerrillas
would have ended had not a woman stepped in and caused the
death of the chief, is left to conjecture. That is to say, the
chief becoming enamored of the charms of the wife of one of
his band, was smiled on by the fair and fickle one, which caused
the reverse of a smile in the outraged husband, who ended the
amorous dalliance of the two guilty lovers by putting an end
to the redoubtable Robin Hood of the windy pass. On the
death of the leader the band disbanded, and has passed into
the history of Tehachepi.

The sturdy old oaks that stand exposed to the driving winds
of the windy pass have about the same rake as the masts of an
old-fashioned Yankee slave-brig ; that is to say, they all stand
on an angle with the horizontal. To be still more plainly
understood, I mean to say that all the trees at Tehachepi
have a strong leaning toward the east ; and still more wonder-
ful, the west side of the trees are devoid of bark, and are as
polished as were the masts of the slave-brig aforesaid, all of
which is caused by the continuous and cutting character of the
winds howling through the windy pass. Once speaking of the
latter peculiarity to an enthusiastic citizen of the windy locality,
he said that was a mistake ; "the wind had not blown the bark
off the trees." " What'else could have caused such curious phe-
nomenon?" queried the writer. "Why," said he, "you know

342 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

when the valley was fi^st settled we all got into a squabble about
our claims and got to bushwhacking each other in regular old-
fashioned, backwoods, Indian style, and all of the trees were
filled full of bullets. This we continued for about two years,
when we settled our difficulties and quit shooting at each other,
and then one fellow here, who had been an old lead miner, con-
cluded that he could make wages at mining the bullets and
buckshot out of the trees, the bullets and buckshot, you know,
that had lodged in the trees during our two years scrimmage,
so in the first place he had to peel off the bark to enable him
to find the bullets, and that is the reason the west side of the
trees are so bare of bark." "The devil and Tom Walker,"
said 1, "that story won't go down. How was it that the
bullets and buckshot only lodged in the west side and none
other?" "Oh!" said he, "I forgot to explain that; you see,
just as soon as the gun was fired, no difference which way she
was pointed, the wind would just catch up the bullet or buck-
shot and away they .would go whizzing with the wind, and if
they struck a tree it had to be on the west side, because you
know, the wind at Tehachepi always blows from the west."
"Well," queried the inquisitive author, "you must have made
bloody work among each other in your two years' conflict ? "
"Oh, not very," said he, "sometimes we would catch a fellow
in a sheltered nook in the mountain and then we would settle
his hash, but where the wind was blowing you could no more
hit a man with a bullet, or buckshot, if you aimed at him, than
you could by throwing a handful of red beans."

There were three Indian families at Tehachepi when this
Ranger was enacting the role of Daniel Boone in that unknown
place, and were quite comfortably situated in a cosy little
sheltered nook on the north side of the pass, overlooking the
great Mojave desert. Occupying a hut all to himself, was a
very old Indian, who received the most kind and unremitting
attention from the three families, all of whom seemed to vie with

KEMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 343

each other in their kindness to the old man. For the informa-
tion of the reader, I will here state that these Indians were of
the Tejon tribe, inhabiting the beautiful region in and around
the head of the Tulare valley, fishing in Lakes Kern and Buena
Vista in summer time, and hunting in the Tejon Mountains
and region in and around the Tehachepi Pass in Avinter. The
most of them spoke the Spanish language. By small donations
from my small stock of provisions, and the distribution of
powder, ball and caps- with which I was well supplied, among
the three hunters of the little rancheria I soon gained their
confidence. When the sun was warm the old man, who was
unable to walk, used to be brought out and sat down on a pile
of deer skins, carefully arranged in a warm sunny exposure
protected from the wind, where he would sit and smoke till
eventide, when he would be carefully carried in. He was the
oldest-looking human I ever beheld. Old Dona Ulalia, who
recently died at an age ranging anywhere from a hundred and
thirty to a hundred and fifty, was a modern compared with this
antique relic of past ages. The first time the old ma'n was out
after my arrival at the camp and I gazed upon his wrinkled form,
I felt as if standing in the very presence of a living mummy.
He looked like an embalmed Egyptian who had lain three
thousand years in the catacombs. I inquired of the hunters if
he could talk, " Oh, yes ; very well, if you can understand
him." "Oh, then," said I, "he don't speak Spanish?" " Muy
bien" said the hunter, " but his voice is very curious, and
unless you are familiar with it, the same as the wind." "Has
he any senses left ?" inquired the Hanger. " Es muy sabio 'y
muy vivo" (he is very wise and lively,) said the Indian hunter,
" if you can only understand him." " Is he your grandfather,
or is he your great grand-father?" I inquired. "He is not of
our race," said the hunter. "Who, and what is he, then?" I
again inquired, beginning to feel an interest in this sublime and
bent monument of antiquity. The hunter, who was an intelli-

344 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

gent fellow, went on in his pretty good Spanish to inform me
that the old man, who claimed never to have been married, and
to have no living kin in the wide earth, was, according to his
statement and the belief of the Indians, to be the last of a race
of civilized Indians who once inhabited and cultivated the
beautiful Mojave, until that valley of perpetual bloom was
submerged by the ventarron.

I then bethought me, if the old man can only talk and I can
only learn to understand him, what a world of information can
be derived as to the prehistoric people, if any, that had in-
habited the desert of the Mojave. So I at once put myself in
a way to open communication with the ancient relic of a bygone
race. First I gave him a white clay pipe, well filled' with
tobacco, and found that he smoked like a Turk, and that he
was greatly delighted with the gift. I soon gained on the old
man's confidence, but it was a difficult matter to understand his
speech, if such sound as the rushing of the wind through dry
rushes could be so designated, but in the course of time I was
enabled to glean from the old relic, by what I could myself
understand, and with the assistance of the intelligent Indian
hunter, the following concerning the ventarron and the destruc-
tion of the great city of Mojave. To use the old man's
language would be impossible, and the author will use his own
to convey to the reader the substance of what he was more than
a fortnight in learning, all of which was to the following effect :
" The great plain spread out before us as we look at the rising
sun was, when my grandfather was in the prime of life, and
when my father was yet an infant, a valley of perpetual bloom,
inhabited by a dense population of highly civilized people, who
lived by agriculture and manufactures. At the furthest stretch
of the eye from where we now sit, the capital city of Mojave
stood in all its majestic beauty, with its walls of solid stone
and its massive buildings, its towers and turrets. My grand-
father and father, long, long since gathered to the spirit land,

REMINISCENCES OF A HANGER. 345

and one or two families who belonged to the watch tower
that then guarded this same pass, were the only surviving
inhabitants of the lost people, and all of them have years and
years ago died and left me alone. I am all that is left of that
once proud and powerful nation ; what I learned of the great
ventarron was from my grandfather, who died when I was yet
a young man. The ventarron (whirlwind) did not strike this
place. Although the three days' wind from the north blew
with destructive violence, the strong watch tower that guarded
this pass against the barbarous hordes of the north withstood
its fury, and the twin mounds that yet stand here as sentinels
are the remains of the great northern watch towers of the
Mojaves, occupied by my grandfather and his friends when the
ventarron swept over the valley of perpetual bloom, and left in
its place the withering sight thac for so, long a time has blasted
the eyes of all who have gazed upon its glaring surface. As I
said before, all beyond us to the setting sun was then "barbar-
ism, and my grandfather who was here said (and I remember
myself his oft-repeated description of the dire catastrophe) to
this effect :

For three days the wind blew with terrific violence from
the west. For three days the wind blew from the north with a
fury that shook the foundation of these mountains that now
surround us. Then for three more days it blew from the east,
and three days from the south. The whole world seemed to be
falling to pieces, and the mountains rattled in their sockets like
teeth in an ancient skull. Then the four winds roared together
in a grand conflict. The whirlwind lifted up the rocks and
ground them to dust. Great cliffs 'were torn to pieces and driven
in gyrating circles until reduced to powder, and filled the air with
dust until the sun was obscured, and darkness fell upon the face
of the earth. The world seemed going back into chaos. Then
the thunders of Heaven joined in the appalling commotion, and
the universe seemed to be in the last throes of dissolution, and

346 REMINISQENCES OF A RANGER.

that general annihilation was at hand. As a last final effort of
enraged nature, the flood-gates of heaven were opened and rain
fell like the pouring out of an ocean, the flying dust returned
in mud and settled upon the earth. The darkness passed away
and revealed a sight too dismal for contemplation. The valley
of perpetual bloom lay before us like a blackened and hideous
corpse. The walls and towers of the great city of Mojave
reared their desolation above the ruin in silent mourning over
the buried multitude, and the ventarron had performed its
mission of fell destruction.

When the renowned and pious father of all the missions in
California, Padre Junipero Serra was at San Gabriel he was so
impressed with the belief that a great city existed somewhere
on the east of the Sierra Nevada, that after a vast amount of
persuasion he induced some of his Indian converts to accompany
him in search of it. In using the word persuasion, I would
here remark that the mission Indians always had a superstitious
awe regarding that mysterious region. Tradition has it that the
good father with his neophyte guard came in sight of a large and
magnificent city on the Mojave desert, that he journeyed toward
it but got no nearer, and being seized with the superstitious
fear of his Indian companions hurriedly retraced his steps
to San Gabriel, declaring that the city he saw was a machina-
tion of the devil to lure him from his missionary labors among
the heathen. Now as to whether the good father was deceived
by a mirage, or that he did actually behold a real city, and was
deceived by false appearances as to distance, we are not
permitted to imagine, but it is a well known fact that in
the great purity and clearness of the desert atmosphere the
distance of twenty miles seems less than one. The tradition
excited the poetical genius of Kercheval, and with the following
from him we drop the curtain on the dark mystery that broods
over the lost people of the valley of perpetual bloom.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 347

THE PHANTOM CITY.

Where the desert's face lies glaring,
Like a corpse forever staring,
And the zephyr's moan despairing,

Wand'ring o'er the deathly waste,
Came a Padre meek and lowly.
Hasting onward, blindly, slowly,
Seeking with his emblem holy,

Dying souls with zealous haste.

Far away with quivering shimmer,
Sank the mountains dim and dimmer,
Shone the sunset's dying glimmer,.

With a faint, expiring glance;
Came no earthquake's voice to mutter,
Not a trembling zephyr's flutter,
Slept a silence deep and utter,

O'er the lonely, dread expanse.

On, o'er ghastly wastes and dreary,
Thro' the night's long watches weary.
Journeyed stout old Padre Serra

Till the ghostly shadows fled,
And the moon came silent wending, —
Still before him vague extending,
Stretched the level waste unending,

Lifeless, soundless, boundless spread.

'Neath the dim horizon's circle,
Where the shadows crouch and darkle,
What is that the sun's bright sparkle

Gilds as with a flash of tire?
Lo! a city vast and hoary,
Dazzling as some fairy stor}',
Clothed as with celestial glory,

Dome and battlement and spire.

Like the swelling tides of ocean,
Thrilled the Padre with emotion,
In his soul a grand commotion,

Thankfulness and glad surprise
Stirred his holy spirit greatly,
Waving palm trees tall and stately,
Towering in their pride sedately,

Rose beneath the desert skies.

348 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Was it but a mocking seeming?
Was the holy Padre dreaming?
Rose a city tall and gleaming,

Queenly 'mid the desert lands;
Temples proud and princely places,
Terraced heights and fount-kissed spaces,
Like some hidden, blest oasis

'Mid Sahara's burning sands.

Then of dangers nought regretting,
Heedless of the toil and sweating,
All the thirst and heat forgetting,

Spake the Padre stout and brave :
" Though the way hath worn and spent me r
Surely Heaven its aid hath lent me,
Surely Christ himself hath sent me
Forth these heathen hosts to save!"

Gleamed the city clear and clearer,.
Seemed it near, yet never nearer,
Almost might the list'ning hearer

Seeming catch its busy din;
But there smote no clang of sabre r
Rose no song of flute er tabor,
And no pulsing tides of labor

Drifted out or entered in.

Yet in vain his weary toiling,
'Neath that glowing furnace broiling.
Ever some curs'd spell seemed foiling

All his efforts in the chase;
Shrank the phantom ever fleeting,
Ever from his grasp retreating,
Where the dim horizon meeting

Kissed the desert's deathly face.

Still the holy father wandered
Ever on and ever pondered —
"Here the heathen hosts have squandered

All the world's bright golden store;
In this vast and lonely centre,
With the cross, their faithful mentor,
I will be the first to enter

At their desert-guarded door."

" If my weak endurance fail not,
Satan's wiles shall him avail not;
Here the holy cross shall trail not
Longer in the sighing dust

BEMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 349

Here with zealous, braye endeavor,
Error's bead His sword sball sever,
And His Kingdom reign forever,
Conquering over sin and lust."

Still more gorgeous glowed the splendor
Trom each column, tall and slender,
Slept a glory soft and tender,

With its far o'erarching light
From each temple skyward springing
Countless rays of glory flinging,
Dazzling, flashing, trembling, clinging

Round each spire's far-piercing height.

Fiercer gleamed that furnace glowing
Like the lava-tide o'erflowiug,
Ever hot and hotter growing,

Withering as some demon's spites;
Deadly as the path of error,
Though no mute lips made demurrer,
Fell a vague, despairing terror

On his trembling Neophytes.

Long with fruitless, vain endeavor.
Followed be the phantom ever,
On and onward, nearing never.

Till at eve, ere fell the night',
Like some fairy's bright creation,
Like some dazzling exhalation,
Dome and turret and foundation

Melted from bis longing sight.

Then said Padre Serra grieving,
"This is some curs'd spell deceiving. —
But a chaim of Satan's weaving,

Luring souls to death," he said,
•"With some cunning incantation,
From the pastures of salvation,
To this deadly desolation," —

Then he crossed himself and fled.

Still the traveller, worn and weary,
Wand'ring o'er the deserts dreary,
i?ees that phantom dim and eerie,

Gleaming, beck'ning far away.
But it flees his longing vision
Like a spectre in derision,
Tades its gorgeous gleam elysian,

As a dream at break of day.

350 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XXXI.

Joe Stokes — A First-Class Desperado — Sanguinary Combat — Kills His
Man at Sacramento and Comes to Los Angeles — An Episode in San
Francisco — Ned McGowan — The Panama Kiot and Massacre — A
Heroic Defence— Glorious Death— A. H. Clark— His Farewell to
Angel Creditors.

DECEMBER, '54, I first met the subject of this brief
sketch, and this was the circumstance of our meeting and
first acquaintance. Having been on a scout in the Cajon
Pass, and on my return having dined sumptuously at old man
Thompson's, the pioneer tavern-keeper at El Monte, which was
just beginning to smile under the benign influence of American
squatter sovereignty, which said squatter sovereignty produced
the reverse of a smile on the Workmans, Rowlands and Tem-
ples who owned lands in the historic " Monte," and had herds
roaming ad libitum therein and thereabout. Oh, no ! When
the Rowland or the Workman would miss a cow, a heifer, or
a bullock, they would never suspect a Monte squatter of being
a beef eater ! It would not have been safe to have entertained,
or at most to have expressed, any such suspicion, and further-
more, because did not the said sovereigns come from the land of
hog and hominy and corn whisky, and had not been here long
enough to adapt themselves to the habits and tastes of the
country ? The Monte promised to be the paradise of the far-
mer ; the face of the earth would smile whenever touched by
the hardy pioneer, and crops of corn would grow almost without
labor.

So prolific was the soil, that the pioneer bed posts, table legs
and benches would put forth verdure and take root, reattach

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 351

themselves to the soil, and again become real estate. Such was
really the case at El Monte, particularly so at Thompson's Wil-
low Grove House, and this is the way it so came to pass :

Willow poles were the great staple of El Monte. They were
used for houses, fences, pig-pens, corn-cribs 'and all kinds of
furniture, and as mud floors were the order of the times, a bed-
post would, when sat on a damp mud floor (and the floors at
El Monte were always damp), at once take root, and within
the briefest space of time the occupants of the original rude
couch would find themselves enveloped in a canopy of sylvan
green. Such was the kind of real furniture found at Thompson's
old pioneer Willow Grove House, where this truthful Ranger
gormandized on roast beef, beefsteak, beef boiled with cabbage,
and beef soup, after his lonely and arduous ride and short
rations, as before stated.

After dinner and a gossip with mother Thompson and her
two interesting daughters, the Ranger hied himself to the
Mission Headquarters, and it being Sunday, the bar was being
over well patronized. Dismounting and sending an Indian in
quest of barley for my mustang charger, I sat down to take in
the surroundings of the classic Headquarters.

There must have been at least three hundred persons in and
around the place. " Old Jackson," the village pettifogger, stood
behind the bar dealing out whisky to the American, aguar-
diente to the Mexican and Indian, angelica to the feminine
angels therein congregated, and a miscellaneous mixture to
the squaws who were just beginning to get hettarious. Two
Monte games were in full blast in the " Saloon," cock-fighting
and a Mexican circus going it at 2:40 in the rear, and a horse
race about to come off in front. Roy Bean in all the pomp
and glory of being the cock of the walk, walked up and down,
in and around, bucking here and there, and offering to bet on
his favorite cock, making a "cow" for the horse race, dressed in
his usual Mexican costume — silver-hilted bowie and pair of

352 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

navies, showing and assuming all the importance and brief
authority of lording it over the Headquarters and all that
reckless throng. A large percentage was Americans, desperate,
worthless fellows, generally, the summit of whose ambition was
a horse, a woman for the time, a good revolver, and a "stake"
to play monte on.

Soon after the arrival at Headquarters there arrived an
elegantly-dressed, handsome young fellow of possibly twenty
years of age, of exceedingly graceful and polite demeanor, of
smooth, clean, and such exceedingly neat appearance as would
at once suggest his employment behind the counter of a
fancy dry good store.

Dismounting and good naturedly entering headquarters, he
carelessly leaned against the counter, and while quietly survey-
ing the scene, he was rudely accosted by a ruffianly-looking
fellow, who went around with the swaggering intent of having
a fight or a foot-race. He seemed a sort of free rover, who
knew no one by name, neither did any one seein to acknowledge
an intimacy with him. Taking a position directly in front of
the young man, with a querulous and derisive grin, surveying
him from head to foot, said :

" Well; whar in hell did yer come from ? "

"I," said the young man, "Why, I just came from Los
Angeles."

"Ye werent raised thar, war ye?" said Mr. Bully.

" Oh no," replied the young man; I was not 'reared' in Los
Angeles. I came from New York."

" Whar ! whar did ye say ? " staring with evident mistifica-
tion in the youngster's face^

Said the young man; "New York, sir, New York. Of
course you know where New York is."

" I know whar New York is ? v I jest don't ; but reckon its
away up North sumwha whar ye pries the sun up with a
handspike. Is it not so, sah ? "

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 853

" The sun never sets on New York, sir," responded the
young man.

Then came a banter for a fight, which the young man
politely declined. Then the bully's demeanor became still
more overbearing, until he declared himself to be " the Wild
"Wolf of the Arkansaw," and said :

"I was the bloodiest man in the Cherokee Nation; I am a
half-breed Cherokee, I am, and I belonged to the Ridge party,
and I've killed more Ross men than any dozen of men in the
party. I killed two Mexicans in New Mexico, on my way out
here, and I killed a soldier at Fort Yuma, and then dared old
Heintzelman to take me up. I've been here three weeks, and
haint killed no one yet, and I'm going to kill you if you just
open your mouth. I'll give these Mexicans a chance to have a
funeral."

" Please, sir, don't let them bury me alive," said the young
man, ironically.

" Stranger, do yer know who ye are talkin' to this kinder
way ? Let me hear from yer. I'm from the Cherokee Nation,
and I shoot, cut and kill, I do."

At this stage of proceedings Roy came on the scene, and
informed the citizen from the Cherokee Nation that he must
desist from molesting the boy, and that being in his house he
would protect him.

The boy thanked Roy politely, and said : " The gentleman is
not dangerous, in my opinion, and won't hurt me." Now the
volcano burst forth. ''Get out of the way, I'm going to
shoot," said " the bloodiest man."

A general rush was made for the four doors, as was always
the case when a fight was imminent. The boy stood quiet
and smiling until the bloodiest man laid his hand on his
revolver, when, in the twinkling of an eye, the boy had the
muzzle of a small revolver within a foot of the pit of the

desperado's stomach, when, with a voice as polite and gentle as
23

354 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGEK.

if soliciting the hand of a fair lady in a quadrille, said : "My
dear sir, hold up your hands or I'll kill you dead."

With his eye steadily resting on the eye of the bully, who,
feeling that he had found his master, had mistook his man,
mechanically obeyed.

"Now," said the boy, "unbuckle your belt and let that six-
shooter fall," which without demur was done.

"Now take your position at the corner of the room," point-
ing to the place indicated. The cowed bully obeyed, and the
boy picked up the revolver, then called for a cigar, and quietly
lighted it.

The crowd now recovered from the panic, looked on the
strange proceeding in mute wonder.

"You stay there till I call for you or I'll kill you," said the
boy, puffing vigorously at his cigar, and all the time keeping
his eye on his disarmed foe.

When tfce boy got his cigar well started, he walked quietly
up to the bully with his little revolver presented, and said :
"Sir, hold your hands behind your back. I'm going to stick
the fiery end of this cigar in your nose, and you must let it
remain there until it goes out, and if you flinch, sniffle or
or attempt to take it out " I'll make a funeral for these
Mexicans."

He then proceeded to put his threat into execution by thrust-
ing the fiery end of the cigar in the ruffian's nose, and then
stepping back to the counter, said: "Gentlemen, resume your
games, there will be no farther trouble," still keeping a dead
aim on the bully, who stood the burning like a martyr for a
full minute, when the strange youth, handing the bully's pistol
to Roy, said: "When I'm gone give him his revolver, unless
he would like to step outside and exchange shots with me like a
man. My name is Joe Stokes, and I can whip any man in

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 355

California who don't like me, and I like to lay for such soft
snaps as the ' Wild Wolf of the Arkansas/"

A hoot, a general hurrah in English, and " Viva el mucha-
cho tan valiente" went up from the Mexicans, and /the
" bloodiest man " was hooted and pelted from the crowd, and
"little Joe Stokes" was the Napoleon of the " San Gabriel
Headquarters" until a late hour in the day, when he and myself
rode into Los Angeles. He was the greatest, bravest and most
magnanimous of all the desperadoes of early times, and who he
was, what he did, how he died, and how in dying he dealt
death and destruction around him, will be next in order.

Joe Stokes was a brother of the Stokes who killed Jim Fisk.
so I understand, and belonged to a fighting family. The father
of the Stokes' was a banker at Philadelphia. Joe was a book-
keeper in Sacramento in 1852, and was about twenty years old.,
The "Woodcock," the "Humboldt" and the "Empire" were
the three principal of the many flourishing gambling houses
that abounded in the " Crescent City." After business hours
it was the custom of the moral denizens of that fast place to
become lookers-on at these fashionable places of gilded vice.
Among other frequenters was poor Joe, who was in the habit of
once in a while " bucking a slug or two." Joe, however, was
quiet, well-behaved, and extremely gentlemanly in his manners,
and almost timid in his retiring modesty, and was, at the time
of his first appearance in and around the "Humboldt" and
" Woodcock," the last person in the world that might be sus-
pected of becoming a debutant in the bloody arena of the
desperado. Such, nevertheless, was the case. He killed a
gambler, which was his first appearance on the stage of death.
Tom Collins was a full-fledged scion of Red River chivalry,
who could draw a Colt or wield a bowie equal to the lead-
ing artist of the time. Tom was eminent as a first-class
fighter, and was master of one of the numerous monte banks in
full blast at the " Humboldt," and Joe was bucking thereat,

356 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

and detected Tom in " drawing waxed cards " while dealing,
and boldly accused him of the dishonorable, and at the time
regarded by the sporting fraternity, reprehensible act.

Tom frowned on Joe as a lion might be supposed to frown
on a rat, and gave him just two minutes to leave the house,
threatening death in case of refusal, or if he ever caught him
within its sacred portals.

Joe quietly dared the gambler to put him out, whereupon
Tom sprang from his seat, out with his revolver and blazed
away at Joe who quietly folded his arms and informed the
cowardly ruffian of his being unarmed and if "you are cowardly
enough to shoot an unarmed man then blaze away. I don't
belong to the breed that runs."

The brave Tom fired two more shots, Joe standing at ten
feet distanca and defiantly looking the would-be murderer in
the eye. The first shot cut Joe's hair, the second passed
between his arm and his body, and the third hit him in the
muscle of the arm, inflicting a severe and dangerous flesh
wound. At this stage of the game a bystander ran up and
gave Joe a loaded revolver, and the brave Collins ran behind a
column supporting the ceiling above and fired the fourth shot,
missing Joe, who in the meantime deliberately aimed and fired
at the only exposed part of Tom's body, hitting him in the
neck and killing him instantly. From thenceforward Joe
Stokes became a terror. He seemed to delight in broils and
was only happy when mixed up in a first class fight, always
refused to take an unfair advantage, and was never known
to come out second best. He absolutely seemed to delight
in danger, was never quarrelsome, always in good humor,
cool, quiet and calculating, he was " without doubt the most
dangerous man in California," and so said good old Recorder
Baker, of San Francisco, in 1855, while imposing a fine on
Joe for some small affray. To bring out a salient point in
Joe's character, I must take up the " ubiquitous " and vene-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 357

rable Ned McGowan who, by the bye, has been reminiscencing
San Francisco, and this truthful and impartial author feels
constrained to reminiscence Ned, which he will now commence
to do in finishing up our present hero.

Ned McGowan; what memories historical, political, warlike,
tragic, dramatic, melodramatic, farcical, comic and amorous,
cluster around thy name Oh, Ned ! sublime relic of American
chivalry never to be known again, for thou art the last
of thy kind. When thy gray locks go down to an honored
grave, thy deeds of unselfish and noble generosity will survive
thee, if not on the page of history, then surely in the memory
of all who in the glorious times of the argonaut and the-
pioneer knew thee

" So gillant in love and so dauntless in war."

In morals and chivalry Ned was emphatically an exaggerated
edition of Aaron Burr. In 1855, what Jack Powers was to
Santa Barbara, Judge Edward McGowan was to San Fran-
cisco. - In '56, when Ned shook the sands of the Bay City
from his feet, and hied him in the direction of the " City of
Vineyards," the halo of glory that surrounded San Francisco
the peerless, departed with him, and the blighted metropolis
never recovered from the blow of Ned's involuntary emigra-
tion. The price of drinks went down from four to two bits
in less than a week. Oh ! it was a sad falling off, indeed it
was. Alas ! Alas !

In '52 the author first met the gallant McGowan whose
magnificent Magyar-like moustache was at that time whitened
by the frosts of nearly fifty, northern winters.

In the zenith of his California prosperity McGowan had
formed a convenient connexion with a blonde beauty of La
Belle France, on whom the amorous Judge lavished all the
wealth of his ardent affections and showered his golden tribute
without stint. Whatever there was of luxury in the volup-

&>8 ' REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

tuous city in the way of high living, expensive suppers, fine
turnouts, wardrobe, jewelry and fine cottage on Pike street.
the generous McGowan procured for this fair and frail daughter
of fickle France. Now it so happened that the Democratic-
horizon in California in '55 was obscured by the Know-Nothing
eclipse, and whatever of misfortune befel the California De-
mocracy was most keenly felt by McGowan. because McGowan
was the Democracy of California and the Democracy of Cali-
fornia was Edward McGowan. Now, therefore, be it under-
stood, that the frail sisterhood on the Pacific slope are and ever
have been the best barometers of flush times, and hard times
as well, and Mademoiselle was no exception to the generality
of her kind, but if anything more acute, and felt the premoni-
tory tremor of coming misfortune to her over-generous pro-
tector. The Judge owned the fee simple to the cottage on
Pike, worth maybe $15,000. To obtain a transfer of the title
papers to herself this adventurous daughter of Gaul lavished
her persuasive powers on her flexible lover, and with perfect
success. She argued with the Judge that in his declining years
he would have a home wherein to betake himself in case of a
lame leg or a rainy day, a hook whereon to hang — a prop of
support. The deed was duly signed, sealed, delivered and
recorded — and lo ! a change came o'er the spirit of his dream.
The venomous vixen told the Judge that she had no further
use for him and that he would her a "favor personal do" to
vamose her ranch, to vacate her premises, — in vulgar parlance,
to get out, and when the indignant Judge attempted to remon-
strate a stalwart son of Gaul put in an appearance and offered
a physical argument to that so sweetly urged by his mistress.
So the Judge stood not on the order of his going, but went at
once. This happened in December, '55, and at that time this
truthful historian with the celebrated A. H. Clark (who has
been heretofore mentioned as one of the Ecuadorian Filibusters)
as a room-mate, lived under the same roof with the victim of

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 359

this infernal French duplicity. Our lodging house was on
Dupont. near Sacramento, and only a block and a half from
the cottage on Pike, and kept by Madame Teresa Show. One
Sunday afternoon at about four o'clock, while several of us,
Ned being one, were quietly enjoying ourselves in the Madame's
front parlor we were startled by a terrific explosion, and hur-
riedly emerging from the house betook ourselves in the direc-
tion thereof, which proved to have occurred at the third house
from Sacramento on Pike, in fact was at the late love-nest of
the venerable McGowan and the fair French blonde. By the
time we were on the ground several had assembled, among
whom we found Joe Stokes, apparently the most unconcerned
of all. The alarm of fire having been sounded, the Monu-
mental Fire Company were at hand, but there was no call for
their service. On enquiring within it was ascertained that
some one had deposited an immense petard under the window
on the cottage porch and fired the fuse thereof, that the French
stalwart aforesaid, Mademoiselle's man of all work, had acci-
dentally opened the door, and observing the sizzing peculiarity,
picked it up and pitched it toward the street, but it exploded
almost on the instant of leaving his hand, knocking him into
the next midsummer and so disfigured the front of that Belle
cottage that the Judge himself would not have recognized it.
The affair produced a sensation. McGowan was arrested, but
easily proved an alibi, he being of the party in Madame Show's
parlor when the petard went off. Who the perpetrator was
was enveloped in mystery, and light never shone thereon, but
the truth is that in the month of March following, on my way
to Nicaragua, Joe Stokes being of my company, he informed me
that he was the very person that attempted to blow Ned's
former frail one into smithereens. He said :

"I once had a fight in the El Dorado, and killed a French-
man, and but for .Judge McGowan it would have gone hard
with me. The Judge placed me under such obligations then

360 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

that I was bound to return the compliment on the first oppor-
tunity ; but," said he, "you ought to have seen that Johnny
Crapaud when my petard exploded. I didn't think there
was a piece left of him as big as a chew of tobacco. I guess it
killed him."

In Nicaragua, with Stokes and some forty others, I boarded
the steamer Cortez, intending to seize her for the Nicaraguan
Government. The Cortez was commanded by Captain Napo-
leon Collins, U. S. N., who in place of permitting us to seize his
craft, captured and carried us to Panama, where we happened
to be at the great riot and massacre of April 6th, 1856, in
which Stokes was killed. This affair being the most bloody
and terrible of all of the circumstances of travel to and from
California, I take the liberty of this digression to relate it.

THE GREAT PANAMA RIOT AND MASSACRE.

The situation of affairs in Panama at the commencement
of the great riot was this : The passengers from three steam-
ers — the Golden Gate, from San Francisco, with about nine
hundred, the New York steamer with about the same num-
ber, the steamer from New Orleans with, say, five hundred,
and some four hundred of the Cortez passengers, as also the
passengers by the British steamers from the South American
coast, on their way East and to England, aggregating in the
whole not less than three thousand souls, all assembled at the
railroad depot, making' the change, the Pacific side passengers
taking the train just vacated by the Eastern side passengers,
who were to go on board the Golden Gate.

The cause of the riot was that a drunken, turbulent Irishman,
who had given considerable trouble in the steerage of the
New York steamer, got into an altercation with a native fruit
vender about a watermelon, the one insisting on taking the
melon without pay, and the other demanding an equivalent
for his merchandise. A fight ensued, and some passengers,

REMINISCENCES OF A* RANGER. 361

ignorant of the cause, ran to the assistance of their fellow
when other natives interfered in behalf of their countryman,
and a general fight took place, which in a few moments assumed
the proportions of a raging, turbulent, uncontrollable, furious
and dreadful riot. It was near sunset when the firing com-
menced, and at the same time all the bells of the Barrio de
Santa Ana, a vile suburb, commenced ringing, with a general
rushing of the vagabond part of the populace toward the depot.
At the moment referred to, the writer hereof was enjoying a
post-prandial siesta and cigar in the front parlor of one of the
hospitable mansions of the city, and stepped on the side- walk
just in time to see the soldiery go by in full force, with fixed
bayonets and at a double-quick, in the direction of the scene of
commotion. At the same time the ladies of the house raised a
cry of "revolution! revolution!" which was taken up and
passed from door to door, followed by an instantaneous barri-
cading of doors and windows, which they all seemed to under-
stand as if by intuition. I at once ran the distance of a block
to my hotel — the Aspinwall — ran up stairs and buckled on my
revolver, and started out to find the only egress from the house,
an immense door, firmly closed and barricaded. I then went to
the balcony above and took a piece of carpet out of a room, twist-
ed one end around a railing, got a lady passenger and guest to
hold on to one end to keep it from slipping, and I so dropped
to the street, and hied me in the direction of the great uproar.
Emerging from the dilapidated city gate in that direction, I was
called by name, and turning to a crowd of gentlemen in seem-
ing conference, I at once recognized Ran Runnels, an American
resident of Panama, a man of great bravery and influence, and
married to the niece of the Governor. He requested me to
remain with them, informing me that all the approaches to the
depot were barricaded, and it would be sure death for me to
attempt to get there. " But," said he, " the Governor here is
only awaiting the arrival of his staff to proceed thither and

3.62 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

•direct the troops in dispersing the rioters, and we will go along
with them." By the time he had done speaking the officials
referred to arrived, and the party started. The din by this
time had assumed the proportions of a full-grown pandemo-
nium — the screaming of hundreds of women and children, the
ories of rage and defiance of the more determined of the men,
the hoots and yells of the natives, the firing of guns and the
smashing and crashing of doors and windows, the groans of the
dying and the cries of anguish of men who were heing literally
cut into pieces — and, to add to the infernal character of the
place, was the screaming of the locomotive, that was vainly
endeavoring to escape with the train partly filled with passen-
gers. At this state of affairs we arrived at a barricade near
the Ocean House, and a hundred yards from the depot, when
we were surrounded by an immense crowd of natives, under the
leadership of a desperate-looking white Spaniard, all flourishing
their cutlasses, and demanding of the Governor an order for
arms from the Government arsenal, and threatening him with
instant death if he did not comply. I stood within arm's
length of the Governor, and remember his reply as well, word
for word, as though they were spoken but yesterday. He said
to the leader, " I know that this mob would murder me ; I
know that you have long wished for an opportunity to do so ;
but now hear me, all of you : Sooner than issue an arm for
any purpose but for the suppression of this infamous disorder,
I would suffer myself to le torn limb from limb!" The
Governor was a tall, black-bearded, noble-looking Spaniard,
and I say this, after a lapse of twenty-nine years, in his justifi-
cation, and for the reason that at the time, and soon thereafter,
the press of the United States accused the Governor of partici-
pating in the riot. Not so. The very contrary was the case.
The Ran Runnels of this chapter is now United States Consul
at San Juan del Elar Nicaragua, and has so been for many
years.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 363

About this time, however, I was recognized, and a cry was
raised : " Kill the big Filibuster ! " when Ran Runnels step-
ped quietly up and took that great, desperate-looking Spaniard,
the mob-leader, gently by the collar, and at the same time he
said to ine, " Don't shoot unless I -kill this devil, and then let
loose and we will break through the crowd." I was utterly
astounded at the gentleness and firmness of his voice and man-
ner. Then to the desperado, still continuing his hold on the
collar, he said, in an almost whisper: "Keep those dogs off;
and now, Don Diego, one motion or effort on the part of these
vagabonds here to strike either my friend or myself, and I will
send an ounce of lead through the waistband of your pants."

At the same time I saw that he had the villain completely
subdued; with one hand so gently bu his collar, he was holding
in the other a derringer at the pit of Don Diego's stomach.
"Keep cool, Captain," he would say to me; "and now. Senor,
you must escort us through this crowd, and, when you do so in
a satisfactory manner to me, I will release you; but one threat
or demonstration on their part, and you, Don Diego, are a dead
man." It was perfectly astonishing to see what an influence
that one man had over that surging mass of vile humanity.
At the wave of his hand they would fall back as gently as a
receding billow on the sandy shores of the ocean, and so he
safely delivered us on the outskirts of that murderous pack of
hell-hounds.

"Now," said Kan, "you have so well complied with my
little request that I will keep my promise with you — go !
Now, Captain, let us get to your hotel. We can do no good
here, and we may save that place if not too late. Oh, God ! "
cried he, "is it possible that these helpless passengers are to be
butchered in this way ? "

By this time the noise had become positively terrific. No
tongue or pen could describe it. With all my subsequent
experience in Nicaragua and on the battlefields of the great

364 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

civil war, 1 witnessed nothing that could begin to compare with
it in point of diabolical horror.

After several narrow escapes from assassination, we arrived
at the Aspinwall and found everything in confusion. The
place had been twice attacked, and the assailants were driven
off by the Filibusters, who had assembled, some twenty in
number, in obedience to previous orders. It was some eight or
v nine o'clock when we arrived at the hotel, where we found some
dozen only, the others having gone to the place of riot in search
of myself and others of the company known to be mixed up in
the fight. They, however, returned in the course of an hour,
having been unable to do more than skirmish on the rear of the
main body of the mob.

They, however, did good service with their revolvers, and
came back to the hotel with a large number of passengers,
whom they had picked up, and also accompanied by quite a
number of Jamaica men — so called in Panama — and mostly
employes of the Railroad and Steamship Companies. We at
once went to work to organize offensive and defensive opera-
tions. A party of Filibusters were sent out, accompanied by
the Jamaica men — the Filibusters to act either offensively or
defensively, and the Jamaicans to gather up the panic-
stricken and fugitive passengers. The arrangement worked
admirably. The Jamaicans, on account of their color and
knowledge of the Spanish language, were enabled to penetrate
the mob. when, by speaking English to the passengers, they
inspired immediate confidence, arid whom they would guide to
the Filibusters in the rear, who, when a sufficient number had
been collected, would escort them to the Aspinwall.

The Jamaica negroes acted nobly, and were the means of
saving hundreds of lives, frequently refusing large proffers of
reward from those whom they had saved. And so we kept up
our sallies and rescues during the night, all of which time the
infernal uproar continued. At about midnight regular volley

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 365

firing commenced, and continued until half past three in the
morning. It was the soldiers firing through the thin sides of
the railroad baggage-room, where some hundreds of passengers,
under the direction of Joe Stokes, the " little Filibuster," had
securely barricaded themselves and could have held out against
the mob until the crack of doom but for an unfortunate occur-
rence. The troops under the direction of their leader, while
endeavoring to disperse the mob with the bayonet, were fired
on by the barricaded passengers, who supposed them to be of
the murderous mob. The soldiers returned the fire, became
unmanageable, and thenceforward acted with the mob. Few
of the passengers were armed, and those who were were unsup-
plied with ammunition to reload their pistols when fired off,
and then the surprise, the panic — no possibility of organized
defense — the only two efforts at organization, the Aspinwall
and the baggage room, were effected solely by the Filibusters.
Stokes defended the entrance to the baggage room, during the
whole night — passengers loading and passing revolvers to him,
and had repulsed repeated charges on the door, both by the
mob and the soldiers, who were now, after midnight acting as
a mob and without organization. During the fore part of the
night Stokes and Bob Marks, a watchman at the depot, had got
an old swivel into the baggage-room, loaded it to the muzzle with
boiler rivets, placed it in position in the main entrance, and
kept it for the final emergency, which they knew to be inevitable.
At half-past three, when the firing had ceased from within, and
when about every one inside was either killed or disabled, the
military mob forced the door, and rushed in at a charge bayo-
net. Then Stokes opened his masked battery. When the mob
received that full and unexpected blast of boiler rivets directly
in the face, which killed outright fifteen of the soldiers and
wounded many more, they fell back on the pursuing mob
behind, only for a moment, to be thrust forward again. Stokes
and Marks only waited long enough to witness the effect pro-

366 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

duced by their terrific farewell. The two heroes, having fired
their last shot, ran up- stairs into the telegraph-room, and
Stokes had succeeded in reloading his revolver, and had turned
to go out, when he was met at the door by a soldier and shot
through the lungs. Poor Bob Marks "was bayoneted on the
spot. All the wounded in the baggage-room were brained and
bayoneted, and, except the general sacking, the Panama horror
was at an end. Colonel Garrido, a brave and, I believe, a
humane officer, having tried without avail to arrest the carnage
in the baggage-room, and hearing the shot up-stairs that killed
poor Stokes, ran up in time to save him from being bayoneted,
administered to his relief, and on the day following, with the
consent of the Governor, ordered a platoon of the military to
fire a salute over his grave. Colonel Garrido himself, being
present, said :. "Poor fellow! What would I have given to
have saved him ? He was the bravest man I ever saw.''

Poor Stokes, only a wayward boy. was the hero of that
night, and when the news of his heroic defence of those passen-
gers, and his death, reached San Francisco, a movement was at
once set on foot to erect a monument over his last resting-place,
but, unfortunately, Ned McGowan took an active part in it,
and during its progress the great Vigilance Committee rose.
Ned became an- outlaw, and the matter was forgotten. Alas!
poor Stokes ! He died the death of a hero and martyr, and
deserved a monument.

Many in San Francisco and Los Angeles certainly remember
Stokes ; if so, let them shed a tear to his memory.

The result of this great enormity was the murder of two or
three hundred defenceless passengers of both sexes ; the exact
number was never known. The American Consul held inquests
over the bodies of sixty-three. He also took an account of
$450,000 in gold, stolen by the mob, and the matter has since
been a subject of diplomacy between our Government and that
of New Granada, now Columbia, and may so continue to be for

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 367

a length of time far greater than the lives of the most favored
of those who were either engaged in or witnessed it.

Having brought out the name of Clark in this chapter, and
having heretofore spoken of him, I may be pardoned in making
this chapter a little longer by paying a slight tribute to his.
memory. He was the first civil appointee of the Government
who came to Los Angeles — he coming in '52 to look after
Uncle Sam's Customs here and hereabout. He was a political
protege of Senator Gwinn, a noble fellow, a polished gentleman^
and possibly the most classical scholar of the age. But he had
no capacity for looking out for himself; be couldn't make
money, was always in debt. In '55 he came within two votes
of being elected Judge of Los Angeles county, and in October
of which year he left here and went to San Francisco, remain-
ing a few days in San Pedro, whence he sent back the following
manifesto to his creditors :

" Beard the lion in his den — the Douglas in his hall."

'< BELOVED CREDITORS — The celebrated English orator,
Charles Fox, fled from the multiplicity of his debts, and
sought to resuscitate the drooping energies of exhausted
nature, amid the glorious productions of that famous city
where the gifted Powers first drew from the rude marble, a
thing of matchless beauty.

"At a later day an humbler but no less impulsive speck on
the surface of animated existence, retired from the indignation
of confiding money gatherers, and on the margin of that beauti-
ful valley which stretches in ' airy undulations ' from the waves
of the Pacific to the base of the Sierra Nevada, forgot the
magnitude of his liabilities in the pursuit of 'calm contempla-
tion, and poetic ease.'

"After an absence of several weeks Fox wrote back to
London that the fevers of Florence had wrought such a
damnable change in his appearance that his oldest creditors
would not know him. A week has only passed since my depart-
ure from Los Angeles, and the sea breezes of San Pedro have
already so tempered the ardors of youth that the most gen-
erous sympathizer in my fortunes would scarcely recognize the
man who developed in others so many weaknesses of the human
heart.

368 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

" Fox returned to the English metropolis, and liquidated-his
indebtedness by the power of his genius and his eloquence. I
might pursue the same course, gentlemen, and with like suc-
cess, if such benefactions of nature were properly appreciated
in this age of dollars and cents. But circumstances demand
from me an adjustment of a far different character, and I trust
the sentiments which have enabled me to outlive the storms of
adverse life may afford you matter of personal consolation and
themes for private contemplation.

" The most of you, gentlemen, belong to that class of men who
have immigrated to these pleasant latitudes for no other purpose
than to satisfy the cravings of cupidity, and then return to
feather a nest in the place which threw over your first efforts the
cold shadows of failure. You see nothing in this region that
appeals to the higher instincts of nature and allures to noble
action. Who among you that has built up for himself a per-
manent and generous identity ? Who has struggled for the
moral and intellectual elevation of the community in which he
lives ? Can you point to a single ornament or a single bless-
ing conferred in a manner commensurate with your capabilities ?
With you gold is the standard of respectability and weigher of
excellence. You stand in this beautiful country, which God
has spread out for the theatre of progressive civilization, and
manifest, by your fierce scramble after wealth, a disposition to
make the accumulation of money the paramount consideration
of your existence. You will soon depart for the land where
the energies of manhood failed to find their oracles of hope and
of success, and will you leave behind a single tribute of respect
for the country which elevated you from a poverty that would
otherwise have clung as the poisoned shirt to the back of Her-
cules ?

" Gentlemen, your accustomed shrewdness will find no diffi-
culty in seeing my justification. I lay it down as an axiom
'well worthy of general acceptation' that a permanent citizen
is not restiained by the ordinary rules of morality in his efforts
to prevent transient speculators from bearing away the circulat-
ing medium of his country. The contracting of debts in such
cases is not the commission of an error to be deplored, but the
introduction of a virtue to be admired. To you the commence-
ment of my career was as ' glorious as the eve of a battle — its
termination' sad as the morrow of a victory — and yet it fur-
nishes many a fruitful and significant lesson. The failure of
an obscure individual may develop truths as everlasting as any
that ever resulted from the wildest revolution.

"In conclusion, gentlemen, remember that Jupiter enshrined
himself in a shower of gold to corrupt the virtue of the beau-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

369

tiful Diana — that mammon poured into the lap of Spain deep
streams of wealth to destroy her national modesty — that the
love of money may cause you to forget the higher objects of
creation, the ordinary incidents of humanity.

ALBERTO."

Poor Albert ! he was too refined for this crude world, and
died in 1862, dependent on a brother, W. T. Clark, formerly of
Los Angeles, late of Indianapolis, Indiana; also dead. May
they both rest in peace is the prayer of one who loved them for
their many virtues and was blind to their faults.

370 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XXXII.

The Know Nothings Cany the Day in 1855— Downe}' Again— Aleck
Bell Again, and How He Won a Fine Position, and How He Man-
aged His Friends at San Quintin — James King of William.

HE Know Nothing party had its origin in New York
in 1853, and swept the land like a whirlwind for a
time. It reached California in '55, and in the same
year found its grave in the classic land of Virginia, Governor
Henry A. Wise being the Wellington of the great Waterloo of
the party. In California its bugle blast of battle was sounded
in June, the resonant notes of which swept the southern plains,
penetrated the canons and gorges of the great Sierras, reached
the mountain fastnesses of the Trinity and Klamath, and
ascended the highest habitable peaks of the snowy range. In
September its fiery battalion marched with unbroken front and
furious tread, crushing down all opposition, and carried the
State by storm, exhausted itself, and died in December. When
the Legislature met, in January, '56, the party was refused the
rights of honorable sepulture. Such was the remarkable rise,
career and death of this furious faction. The first misfortune
that befel the party was in the land of its birth, in the nomina-
tion of one Daniel Ullman for Governor of the Empire State.
Ullman was a foreigner, and as the creed of the party was
political proscription to foreigners, the nomination was a fatal
mistake. Ullman was an old humbug, who, had he only held
his peace, would have been elected anyway, so formidable was
the party in New York ; but he opened his mouth, and sealed
the doom of the party. The query of the campaign was,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 371

"What is he?" meaning Ullman. No one knew. The
gubernatorial candidate refused to tell, and the answer to the
question was that " Daniel Ullman is a Hindoo" and the
party at that New York election was effectually Hindoo'd.

It may be interesting to some survivor of the great native
American party to know the final fate of its illustrious New
York standard-bearer, and this truthful writer of Reminis-
cences will claim his privilege of digression and take great
pleasure in winding up Ullman in history as he did in fact, in
February, 1865, when the "Hindoo"' found his Waterloo on
one of the bloodless fields of the great civil war. In 1868 the
"Hindoo" came to New Orleans from Washington wearing the
stars of a Brigadier, and surrounded by a full-fledged staff
resplendent in blue,, glitter and gold. The mission of these
birds of brilliant plumage was to organize an army of negroes
to fill the bornb-proof positions while the true boys in blue
went forth to fight face to face with the grim graybacks of the
Southern Confederacy. It may be a long time before the truth
of history reveals itself, but when it does it will be found that
for effective fighting the colored soldiers of the Union were not
a success, but were certainly equal to the Generals, Colonels
and subalterns who commanded them. Under General Banks
the "Hindoo's" career was surpassingly brilliant, — good clothes,
good pay. the best rations, most comfortable tents pitched on
positions impregnable, good times and no fighting, no hard
knocks, or any service greater than standing guard and raiding
hen-roosts. The career of the " Corps de Afrique" under the
" Hindoo" was the very perfection of military ease and idleness.
Notwithstanding all this good cheer and an unlimited supply of
whisky, the " Hindoo " hungered for the honors of the battle-
field, and fretted and chafed like a regular Hindoo tiger to be
let loose on the foes of human liberty. But no ! the flesh and
blood of these dusky warriors was too sacred to be sacrificed.
White men were, in the opinion of the authorities, the only

872 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

proper food for gunpowder, and the '•' Hindoo," with his colored
cohorts to the number of about 10,000, with some two thou-
sand white veterans to guard them, was forced to chew the cud
of military disappointment at the camp of Morganza, twelve
miles below the mouth of Red River, on the Father of Waters,
and submit to a life of military inactivity, while the thunder of
cannon and the rattle of musketry resounded from the Rio
Grande to the Potomac.

From Morganza to the Achafalaya river was thirteen miles.
About fifteen miles beyond, at a place called Big Cane, a
former citizen of Los Angeles, a Confederate Brigadier, J. L.
Brent, commanded a small force of Confederate cavalry, to
watch the camp at Morganza, a Texas fellow named Collins,
and a gallant Creole, Carmouche by name,, had small scouting
parties on the Peninsula, formed by the Mississippi, the
Achafalaya and Red Rivers.

This was the military situation in February 1865, when a small
party of civil engineers went up from New Orleans to examine
the condition of the levees near the mouth of Red River, and
took with them an order from General Canby (who had relieved
General Banks) for an escort to and from the place to he
examined. In compliance with the order the " Hindoo" turned
out with his entire staff, marshaled 5,000 of his "Corps de
Afrique," with drum corps and bands ; Colonel Chrysler, with
his Second New York Cavalry ; Colonel E. J. Davis, with his
First Texas Cavalry, the Twenty-Fourth Indiana Infantry,
and Marlin's New York Battery of rifled guns, with ambulan-
ces, medical corps, ammunition and provision trains, with
three wagons to carry the stores (principally whisky) for him-
self and bibulous staff. The war was evidently drawing to a
close, and the " Hindoo" had not as yet fleshed his maiden
sword — his "Corps de Afrique" had never been baptized in
the fire and flame of battle, and here was an opportunity not
to be lost.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 373"

It took about three days to place this array on its marching
legs. Finally this great force, in numbers greater than Wash-
ington commanded at Monmouth, marched out of the splendid
fortifications at Morganza, with flags flying, drums beating
and bands playing inspiriting airs. It marched forth, first the
" Corps de Afriqne" with skirmish line extending from river
bank to swamp, a mile back. Second in order of march was
Marlin's battery; then came the General and staff, with the
New York Cavalry regiment as a body guard; next the white
infantry, and the Texas cavalry as rear guard.

This was a very deliberately planned campaign, and by the
time the army had passed over the space of three miles, the
rattle of musketry commenced on the skirmish line, and the
"Hindoo" sent an aide-de-camp forward to learn the situation,
who went off like a rocket, and soon returned, his war horse
covered with foam, with the announcement of a large force of
" rebels in front." Now the "Corps de Afrique" is deployed
in line of battle and the white veterans are held in reserve.
Marlin's guns are unlimbered and run into battery immediately
in rear of the black and blue battle line. Skirmishers are
rallied on the batallions, the bugles sound the advance, the
bands play the charge, the "Hindoo" and staff ply their canteens.
The "Corps de Afrique" give three cheers and a tiger, bravely
advance and open a terrific fire from right to left, from river to
swamp. The "Hindoo" and his staff dash along the roaring
battle-line cheering, and urging it on to victory, and to "give
no quarter." " Remember Fort Pillow." " Give 'em h— 11 ! "
And now Marlin is ordered forward, the " Hindoo" himself
guiding the battery into position. " Now, Marlin, turn loose
my war dogs and make 'em bite," was the " Hindoo's " order.
Marlin seeing no enemy, inquired, " General, am I to consider
this as an order ? " and the genera] put a flea in his ear.

Marlin now opened, and fired thirty rounds from his battery,
and the "Corps de Afrique" kept up a perfect blaze of

374 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

battle. The " Hindoo " next planned a combined movement
of horse, foot and artillery, and in charging over the field to
direct the movement in person, having become so waterlogged,
he fell off his horse. Colonel Chrysler, disgusted with the
infernal tomfoolery (for be it known, patriotic Americans, there
were not fifty armed enemies within thirty miles of this field of
the "Hindoo's" fall), came forward, stopped the waste of
ammunition, ordered a Sergeant with an ambulance and guard
to take charge of the "Hindoo," which they did in the most
approved New York style, relieving him of his purse, his
watch, diamond pin, studs and other valuables ; then placing
the dead drunk GENERAL in an ambulance, he was carted back
to Morganza. The "Hindoo" General was deprived of the glory
of writing a report of this bloodless battle, but nevertheless it
was reported, and now finds its way into the war history. The
writer of this warlike episode was at the time serving on the
staff of General Canby, and happening to visit Morganza on
the day following this great waste of ammunition, and being
informed of the facts by Captain Marlin, Colonel Chrysler, and
other white officers, did himself the pleasure of writing a report
thereof to the Commanding General, who without any further
inquiry ordered the " Hindoo " to Washington under arrest.
The Ordnance Officer estimated the value of the ammunition
expended in that sham battle, intended to redound to the glory
of the " Hindoo " General and his " Corps de Afrique," to be
$30,OOJ. And such was the end of the Know Nothing candi-
date for Governor of New York. In that memorable Know
Nothing campaign of '55, Los Angeles stood by the Democratic
/colors, and elected my gallant Ranger comrade, Don David W.
(Alexander, Sheriff of the county, and sent John G. Downey as
representative to the Legislature. This was the ex-Governor's
first move on the political chess-board. Aleck Bell was the
luckiest man of the day, and this is the way his good luck
cropped out :

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 375

There were two Alexander Bells in Los Angeles, both cap-
tains, one having served under Taylor in Mexico and the other
having served under Stockton and Kearney in California. The
latter was a wealthy, most popular and estimable citizen of Los
Angeles, and the former was a first-class adventurer and noted
russler. Colonel Butts, of bear fighting fame, was the Know-
Nothing delegate from Los Angeles to the State convention
and suggested Alexander the rich, as a nominee on the State
ticket for State Prison Director, an office with a $3,500 annual
salary thereto attached and with perquisites of many more
thousands thereto belonging. When the State ticket was
announced Alexander the russler swore he was the man, inter-
viewed Butts, promised him the prison beef contract if he'd
keep mum, was the first to take the stand at the ratification
meeting, accept the nomination and pledge his influence to
the ticket. He next went to his rich namesake, begged his
acquiesence, and, notwithstanding several indignation meetings,
Alexander, the russler, brazened the thing through, claimed his
election, got his certificate, took his seat as President of the
Board, swamped the whole directory in less than three months
by incurring immense debts for reckless prison expenditures
which brought down the wrath of the Legislature, and the
Board was abolished.

When Aleck claimed the nomination his worldly wealth
would not have sold, including his wardrobe, for $20. When
legislated out of office he had good clothes, not a dollar in
money, but had incurred personal debts of about $20,000.
This was Aleck's misfortune, he was generally flat broke and
was the best borrower I ever knew. He borrowed from every-
body and paid nobody. H*J never knew a man in California
from whom he didn't borrow money in sums ranging from one
to a thousand dollars. His manner was such that no one could
refuse him. He was hale fellow well met with all classes of
people from the highest in position to the veriest vagabond.

376 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

When Aleck got into this first-class position some of his
friends in San Francisco advised him to go through the insol-
vent court, get relieved of his debts and make a new start and
a provision for his family. This he indignantly refused, main-
taining that he intended to pay his debts.

" How much do you think you owe, Aleck ? " queried one of
his friends. " Do you mean in California ? " said Aleck.
" Yes, in California," was the answer. " Well," said Aleck,
" I don't think I owe over $2,000,000."

Now when Aleck took command at San Quintin, he found
that among the ragged rascals there confined every fifth man
was an old friend, each of whom claimed an indebtedness for
small loans made when times were flush with them. Some had
known him in Texas, some in the army in Mexico, others had
followed him to Equador, and had worked for him at Panama.
He found Los Angeles friends, San Francisco friends, friends
from Stockton, from Sonora, Mokelumne Hill, Santa Barbara,
and friends and kinsmen of his Sonorefia wife.

Aleck was the most open-handed, whole-souled, generous and
liberal of men, and his heart opened and yearned toward these
former friends, now in prison rags and half-starved, and he hied
him to San Francisco, and bought the best of blankets, under-
wear, boots, hats, black doeskin pants, red shirts and warm
coats for his family of 500 convicts, two suits each ; had the
prison renovated from floor to roof, the convicts shaved, shorn,
scrubbed, and made comfortable, and had the prison larder
stocked, and the table supplied in such style as would have
bankrupted a second-rate hotel ; cigars and tobacco were fur-
nished, and forlorn indeed was the poor convict whose throat
got cobwebed for the lack of whisky. Alas for the poor devils
at San Quintin, Aleck so ran the thing in the ground, that in
less than a month a Committee of the Legislature investigated
the prison management, and on their report, during the third
month, as before stated, the directory was wound up.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 377

Another misfortune befel him. After his election, in Sep-
tember, Aleck took up his residence in the Bay City, and as a
fact he was more widely known than any man in the State,
and was besieged every day for a position at the prison, when
he went into office on the 1st of January, and letters came from
all quarters to the same effect, all of whom Aleck promised,
and from all of whom he got a small loan to help him along
till he went in. So when Aleck went over to take charge of
the prison there was such a gathering of the clans as was never
known on that side of the bay. Offices were multiplied.
The guards were doubled, and sinecures created. Still not one
in five could be provided for, but thev were all invited to hansr

A / v O

up their hats, eat, drink, and be merry, until something could
be done for them, which caused some of the Committee to
facetiously designate our State Prison as the "Loafers' Asylum."
This now reminds me of a story. Old R. had a farm at El
Monte which he sold at a sacrifice, and went to San Francisco
to get a fat prison contract, Aleck being a great friend of his.
Now it happened that Albert H. Clark and myself were room-
ing together at Madame Show's on Dupont street, adjoining St.
Mary's cathedral, and one cold, wet evening in December I was
reclining on a sofa and Clark was seated by the coal fire
smoking. There was no light except that given by the coal
fire. Old R. came in, took a seat, and after some preliminary
conversation requested a loan until the Los Angeles steamer
returned, saying he had sent to his wife for money.

"Why," said Clark, "R., I was thinking about hunting
you up for a loan, hearing that you had sold your ranch; you
certainly didn't come up here without a supply of coin."

"The fact is," said R., "I got here with about $600, and
went up to Sacramento with Aleck Bell and Bob Haley to fix
up those political appointments, and lent them my money and
they came away and left me, and I don't know how I could
have got back had I not met a man who knew me and paid my

378 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

fare down. The truth is, Clark, I haven't eaten a morsel all
day."

"What! is that all?" said Clark; "you a politician and
complain about going without eating for a day! I sometimes go
a week without eating. I went to Sacramento pome time ago
and was gone ten days and didn't eat a morsel during my whole
absence. My friend, starting in as a politician, take my advice
and train your stomach."

I could stand this no longer. Old li. was one of the best of
fellows, and I stopped Clark's cruel joking and we took our
mutual friend in and shared our comforts with him.

When Aleck went into office old R. was on hand, but failed
to get a contract, and concluded to content himself with a
hundred dollars a month and found, as a guardsman, but
there were about five hundred ahead of him, and he for a time
became a pensioner on the establishment until it happened that
Texas Jack, a most eminent horse thief, who boasted of never
having stolen less than twenty horses at one time, and some-
times a thousand, and was withal an old friend of Aleck's — a
Texas friend. Jack was a convict, in for ten years, and was
master of the equine establishment at San Quintin, that is to
say he was chief hostler, and presuming on his old friendship
with Aleck, and anticipating an easier place, resigned, and old
R. was appointed to this honorable position, and reaped the
reward of his political fidelity and with his $100 a month as
successor to the renowned Jack, pined not after his Monte
farm, sold for less than half its value, and his $600 invested in
politics through the medium of Aleck Bell and Bob Haley.

In the fall of 1855, James King of William founded the
Bulletin, which fell upon San Francisco like a roaring lion,
evidently intent on reforming public morals, or wiping out the
general public, for be it known, modern reader, that, at that
time San Francisco was not heavy on morals. All of the
contemporaneous publications took a tilt at the audacious

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 379

innovator, and they all in detail got their lances shivered in
the encounter, for was not the virtuous reformer encased in the
armor of purity, and armed with the sword of morality ? The
Alta pitched into him, and was sent to grass. The Herald
was "knocked out of time," and the Daily American (of
which Aleck Bell was the proprietor during its short life, and
Edward Pollock was editor, while the author occupied the more
humble office of local scribe), stripped itself to the " buff," im-
bibed a goodly supply of " Dutch courage," and entered the
arena, determined to maul the mug of this champion of the edi-
torial prize ring. James King of William was a broken banker,
and the American called him a "ruined Shylock," a "morbid
money changer," " honest lago," and other such pet names.
Pollock had too much editorial discretion to write such stuff.
The closing editorial was written by the distinguished proprie-
tor himself, under the inspiration of at least one hundred
"cocktails" and undiluted "straights." It transpired that
when King was on the Shylock lay-out,. Aleck had deposited
his I.O.U. behind King's counter for a small pecuniary accom-
modation, for which he was to pay the usual ten per cent,
monthly interest. Now it came to pass that the American
went for the Bulletin's blood in the morning, anticipating that
King would "counter" in the evening. Not so, however; the
Bulletin didn't say a single word in reply, but at about ten
o'clock on the same day one of Sheriff Dave Scannell's deputies
came around and closed up the pugilistic American, on a writ
of attachment at the suit of the " Shylock " King, who
demanded his money and his accumulated pounds of flesh. So
the great American gun was most effectually spiked.

Early in '56, the Sunday Times made its appearance in the
arena of journalistic pugilism. Supervisor James P. Casey was
its editor, and gave the Bulletin such a stunning blow, square
from the shoulder, as caused the claret to freely flow. The
Bulletin replied by asserting the truth to be that the Times 1

380 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

editor was an ex Sing-Sing convict, which so riled Casey that
he hied him hurriedly in quest of the great oracle McGowan,
and is supposed to have communed with him on the subject
matter of insult, "borrowed Ned's Derringer, so thought at the
time, and on the same day killed the king of San Francisco
editors. To understand this matter more fully the reader must
be informed that no one could be killed in San Francisco with-
out McGowan's consent, and as Casey killed King, as was
freely maintained, with Ned's pistol, it was quite easy to infer
that Ned consented thereto, and the Vigilance Committee hung
Casey for murder, held McGowan to be an accessory before the
fact, and he was forced to flee the wrath of the Committee, and
take refuge in the mountain fastnesses of the southern counties.

The author of these truthful reminiscenses, has frequently
called himself the " truthful historian," and does not assert as
a fact that Casey and McGowan conspired to kill James King
of William, or that Casey killed King with Ned's pistol, or
that the ex- Judge had anything to do with or knowledge of the
intended assassination. The author is unwilling to infer such
to be the case. But as McGowan was afterward indicted, tried
and acquitted of the charge we must all agree that he was inno-
cent thereof.

Notwithstanding the 9,000 members of the great San Fran-
cisco Vigilance Committee in their excess of zeal, believed
McGowan to be guilty, sought for but didn't find him,
and after having searched half the houses in San Francisco
from garret to cellar, beat the bush in and around the sand
hills, it was ascertained that the flying fugitive had reached
Santa Barbara. A large force followed and would, but for the
shrewdness and honesty of Jack Powers, have captured him.
I repeat, honesty of Jack Powers. Jack saved Ned McGowan.
The great Vigilance Committee offered $20,000 for his arrest
and Jack Powers could have pocketed that sum by betraying

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

381

his guest into their hands. Does not this speak volumes for
the honesty and manhood of that unfortunate and much
abused character.

382 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Another Revolution— Juan Flores Raises the Standard of Revolt — Captures
San Juan Capistrano — Levies Forced Loans — Murders a Merchant —
Massacre of the Sheriff's Party — A Vendetta — General Pico takes the
Field — T. D. Mott Commands an Expedition to San Buenaventura —
The Rebellion Squelched — Rebels Hung — Bloody Trophies — Stuttering
Aleck.

MAY '55, Myon Norton, then Judge of the Court of
Sessions of Los Angeles County, sent three of our gentle
angels into a forced retirement at hard labor and harder
fare in our State Asylum for thieves and other malefactors.
The first of this trio was a red-headed gringo named Welch.
Juan Gonzales, who had the year previous acted the part of
hangman in the execution of the lamented Dave Brown was
the second, and Juan Flores was the third, and apparently the
most insignificant, but, as the sequel will show, the most
important personage who ever represented our angel popula-
tion in the halls of State at San Quiritin. All three were
sent up for the unromantic crime of horse stealing. Juan
Flores was a dark complexioned fellow of medium height
slim, lithe and graceful, a most beautiful figure in the fan-
dango or on horseback, and about twenty-two years old.
There was nothing peculiar about Juan except his tiger-like
walk — always seeming to be in the very act of springing upon
his prey. His eyes, neither black, grey, nor blue, greatly resem-
bling those of the owl — always moving, watchful and wary,
and the most cruel and vindictive-looking eyes that were ever
set in human head. These gentlemen from Los Angeles not
relishing the boiled sturgeon and other fish dirt with which the

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 383

lessees of the prison fed their guests, and the brick yard having
no charms for them, after a few months of service, with a
hundred or two others made a break for liberty, were recaptured
and subjected to a prison discipline and surveillance that ren-
dered any future escape a moral impossibility. However, those
ever watchful eyes of Juan only waited for half a chance
to make another effort, and in October '56 an opportunity
was seized which to Juan proved successful, though many
of - his comrades were slaughtered, more of them retaken,
while a few of the more determined escaped. A few days
only, before the most desperate of all breaks from San
Quintin was made, a notorious desperado from Shasta was
lodged within the walls of this celebrated prison whose
name, if known to the prison officers, was never used to
designate him, but, calling himself the " Red Horse," was so
known to his fellows. Jim Webster, however, was his true
name. A brig was loading with brick at the prison wharf.
The gangs of convicts who were engaged in the work, on reach-
ing the brickyard outside the walls early one morning, were
raised to fury by the startling cry of, " Who dare follow the
Red Horse ? Onward, boys, for the brig and liberty ! " Then
was heard in response a terrific yell, the rattling of chains and
firing of guns, as the crowd of chained demons rushed down
the wharf and on board the brig. The guard, who were at
hand, opened fire on them with their rifles and revolvers, and
several were killed. Juan Flores was the first to follow the
" Red Horse," and his wild carajo urged his countrymen on to
death or liberty. The melee was awful. The captain and
crew of the brig were driven below, and the guards on board
disarmed and tumbled overboard. Overlooking the wharf was
a promontory, on which was stationed a battery of one six-
pounder field-piece and one twelve-pounder howitzer. The
convicts, on boarding the brig, cast off her moorings, swung
her to the outgoing tide, when lo ! a shower of cannister was

384 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

poured into them at a distance less than seventy yards, and the
riflemen on the wharf shot them down like dogs.

In spite of all this slaughter the "Red Horse," commanding
those who spoke English, and Juan, yelling his orders in the
shrill language of Mexico, succeeded in setting the sails of the
brig, and the wind being favorable, sailed beyond the reach of
grape cannister and rifle ball, and those who were not killed, or
who had not jumped overboard and were drowned, or who
reached the wharf and surrendered, succeeded in crossing the
bay to Contra Costa and escaped, Juan Flores and Pancho
Daniel being of the number. A couple of weeks later Juan
and Pancho were at San Luis Obispo with a party of fifteen or
twenty followers and made known their intent to go to Los
Angeles, raise the standard of revolt and rid the country
of the hated gringos. At San Luis they met one Andres
Fontes, who had served out a two years' term in the peniten-
tiary, and who joined them on condition that they would help
him to murder Jim Barton, Sheriff of Los Angeles County,
whom Andres claimed had unjustly accused and sent him to
the penitentiary.

This Andres Fontes was a native California boy and
when sent to the penitentiary was only about eighteen
years old. When taken from the Los Angeles jail he
threatened the Sheriff with future assassination. There had
been a difficulty between Andres and Barton about to this
effect : Our angel Sheriff was an unmarried man and lived in
illicit intercourse with an Indian woman, who, for some alleged
ill treatment, left him and went to a family residing on the
east side of the river. Barton went for her and on her refusal
to go with him violently seized and was dragging her away,
when Andres happened to be riding along the road, interposed
in favor of the woman, and Barton was constrained to desist.
One or two days thereafter Andres, at the instance of the
Sheriff, was arrested on a charge of felony and was convicted

REMINISCENCES Of 1 A RANGER. 385

and sent to San Quintin, and hence his desire to murder Sheriff
Barton, and the cause that induced him to join the embryo
revolution under Juan Flores.

In due course of time the parcy, with augmented numbers,
arrived at Los Angeles, and dispersing around town, had
a good time of it for a few days, and then, numbering fifty,
departed for San Juan Capistrano, sixty miles toward San
Diego. Arriving there, Juan raised the standard of revolt,
dispatched couriers to notify the rancheros and invite them to
his standard. Judging the temper of his countrymen by his
own. he felt sure of a general uprising. Never was there a
more fatal mistake. The native Californians, it is true, raised,
not to assist in a hair-brained insurrection, but to put it down,
and to punish the insurgents.

The first thing Juan did after dispatching his couriers was to
raise the sinews of war. He first called on Juan Forster, who
shelled out. Then he went from one gringo to another, until a
German was found who refused to pay. He was, in conformity
with the rules of revolution, taken to the plaza and shot.
Juan then dispatched a false messenger to inform Sheriff
Barton of the disturbance, and to mislead him, in order that he
might be led into a trap and murdered, and thus the compact
with- Fontes would be made good. On the reception of the
information falsely given as to the disturbance, Barton called
for a few volunteers to go with him to San Juan. Cyrus Lyon
inquired as to the number of men he proposed taking, and on
being informed that ten would be enough, refused to go. Cy
Lyon was one of our most efficient Rangers, and was better
informed as to the magnitude of the danger than any other
person, and told Barton that if he went with a less number
than fifty or sixty rnen, it would be at the peril of being cut off
and slaughtered. Accompanied by only twelve men, Barton
set out for the scene of disturbance, and arrived at San Joaquin

Ranch, within eighteen miles of San Juan. Here Don Jose
25

386 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Sepulveda warned him of his danger, and urged him to go no
farther, but to send back to Los Angeles for more men, and
await their coming. An old Frenchman, the ranch cook,
assured Barton that a trap was set for him ; also that a party
of the robbers, double the number of the Sheriffs party, had
just been at the ranch.

With all these admonitions of danger the Sheriff and his
little party took up their line of march for San Juan. They
had proceeded but a short distance when a man rode out of the
tail mustard fired at them and galloped away up the road,
pursued helter-skelter by the gringos who one at a time ran
into an ambuscade and were shot down.

It so happened that Frank Alexander and Calvin Hardy
were some little distance behind the main body, and as they
galloped up saw the situation in time , wheeled their horses in
the road and fled in the direction of Los Angeles, being pursued
by members of the gang all the way to the Santa Ana River.
With the exception of those two the party was massacred.
Barton fired his double-barrelled gun without effect, fell
from his horse and was riddled with bullets as he lay on the
ground, still, however, discharging the six shots from his
revolver without effect. In fact not a man of the insurgent
band was either killed or wounded. When Barton had fired
his last shot, Andres Fontes approached, and deliberately
aiming, shot him through the head, as he aimed, Barton raised
himself on one elbow, hurled his empty revolver at the assassin,
and was at the same moment shot dead. Thus ended the mas-
sacre. Taking the arms, equipments and horses of the mur-
dered gringos, the murderers returned to San Juan in triumph.
When the news reached Los Angeles, it produced a most
profound sensation. Gringos held their breath in the intensity
of their alarm. Brave men looked at each other in blank
terror and asked, " Where will this end ? " There was some
fear as to how the native Californians, the Spaniards, would act

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 387

in the matter. This was soon settled by General Andres Pico
and Don Tomas Sanchez calling for volunteers to put down
the disturbance and punish the assassins. In a day they had a
large force and were ready to take the field. In the meantime
the gringos coming in from all parts of the country organized
into companies, and the Board of Supervisors of the County
having appointed Jim Thompson to the vacant office of Sheriff,
he assuming command, the little army took up its line of
march to the seat of war. On the advance nearing San Juan,
the insurgents, in good order, and with pack mules carrying
supplies, retired to the mountains and were not found till the
afternoon of the day following, when, through the aid of Don
Jose Sepulveda, they were tracked to an impregnable position
in the Santiago cafion.

The insurgents were insolent and defiant. Some firing and
skirmishing took place without effect, when it was determined
to surround, settle down and besiege the position, which before
nightfall was successfully done. Flores now seeing that the
tables were turned, and that he himself had fallen into a trap,
resolved to lose no time in escaping therefrom, and at an early
hour in the night made the attempt, with only partial success,
himself and his Lieutenant falling into the hands of the
gringos, and some fifteen or twenty of his men being captured
by the vigilant Pico. The manner in which Flores and Pancho
Daniel were captured was, in the darkness they rode over a
precipice, and rolled and tumbled down, down, down, with a
great clatter, and finally landed in a gringo camp at the bot-
tom. The rest of the band escap?d, for the time. The capture
of the two leaders produced great joy and satisfaction, and the
company from El Monte claimed the right to guard the prison-
ers, which they were permitted to do. The captive Captain
and his Lieutenant were secured by tying their arms behind
their backs, and disposing of them in the midst of sleeping
Monte gringos, who, after re-posting their sentries, resigned

388 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

themselves to slumber. Morning came, and with it an intense
excitement. The two birds had flown. The Captain, his
Lieutenant, and two of the best horses belonging to the now
crestfallen Monte gringos, were missing. When they had
fallen into camp, as it were, from the skies, the surprise was
great, but now it was greater, and failing to find an aperture
in the earth through which they might have continued their
downward descent, and not finding the two horses missing, as
aforesaid, the Monte gringos concluded that their two captives
had in some mysterious manner outwitted them, and vamosed
the ranch. (It was afterwards ascertained that the two prison-
ers had worked their backs together, and one had untied the
other, and they thus escaped.)

Dispositions were now made for a vindictive pursuit.
Thomas D. Mott, a handsome, quiet young fellow, who had up
to this time stood modestly in the background, was in com-
mand of one of the companies, and was ordered to proceed in
all haste to San Buenaventura, raise the people, watch
the roads, and make sure that none escaped in that direc-
tion. Others were dispatched in the direction of San Diego,
the Cajon and San Gorgonio passes as well as the San Fer-
nando Pass. Captain Stanley who had succeeded Captain
Hope, was in the saddle with his Hangers, and the military at
Jurupa and Tejon were notified. These dispositions made to
guard the passes, and to reach them required hard riding and
fatigue, it being from the locus in quo to San Buenaventura
full one hundred and twenty miles, to San Fernando seventy-five
miles, and to other places not so far, and the main body was
being disposed to scour the mountains and plains. Some
prying gringo eyes now discovered that notwithstanding Gene-
ral Pico with his followers were present, the prisoners taken by
him on the previous night were not visible, and upon inquiry
Don Andres said he had "confessed" them. Some doubt being
expressed as to how they might have been disposed of, Don

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 389

Andres spoke to a weather-beaten, bronzed hero who • galloped
off up the canon, and soon returned wearing pendant from his
burly neck, shot-pouch fashion, a most beautiful necklace made
of human ears strung on a raw-hide string. These trophies
being conclusive evidence that if the former owners thereof had
not been "confessed," then certainly they had been otherwise
piously disposed of. This being satisfactory, operations were
resumed, and scouring the country commenced. Tom Mott
rode rapidly to San Buenaventura and arrived just in time to
fall in with a party of the insurgents, and the first notice given
the good people of the quiet Mission village was the rattle
of revolvers as the two hostile parties at early dawn met in
the street. The robbers fled to a vineyard; some were shot
down and others captured, and by the time the citizens were
astir the affair was over. Espinosa, one of the leaders, was
captured. Informing the citizens of the gravity of the situa-
tion, Mott delivered his prisoners to them for safe keeping, and
hurried back to the Simi Pass to take position and endeavor to
intercept others, and to dispatch a courier to Captain Thomp-
son. By this time, however, it had been ascertained that the
whole force of the insurgents, in broken bands, were working
their way north, and most fortunately Tom Mott had got ahead
of all of them.

This was the strangest circumstance in the uprising, that in
breaking up they should have gone north, when it was only an
easy day's ride, for men hard pressed, from the Santiago Canon
to the Mexican line in Lower California. Before nightfall on
the day Captain Mott struck the advance of the flying bandits,
a large force guarded the passes going north. The San Fer-
nando, the Santa Susana, the Simi and Conejo were filled with
armed men. with intervening cordons that rendered escape in
that direction next to impossible, while the plains and foothills
were scoured in such manner that gave the fugitives no time
for rest. The result of these masterly movements was that in

5590 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

parties of lives, tens and twenties the bandits blindly rode into
the traps so adroitly set for them and were all captured, includ-
ing Juan Flores and Pancho Daniel. Andres Fontes having 1
accomplished his purpose, severed his connexion with the band
before they left San Juan, and with several of the horses and
other spoil taken from Barton and his men, hurried away to
Lower California, and from him much information concerning
the Flores insurrection was thereafter obtained. He, however,
soon met his fate at the hands of the notorious Solomon Pico,
of Lower California revolutionary fame, by whom he was shot.
He was undoubtedly the last of the Juan Flores gang.

In a former chapter this Ranger historian declared his aver-
sion to the relation of bloody and horrible incidents, and the
very great pleasure it afforded him to write of amusing things.
He therefore begs to be permitted to drop the curtain on the
closing scenes of the terrible uprising of Juan Flores. An
example was necessary, and a bloody example was made.

Since the death of Murietta,Vulvia, Senati and Vergara, and
the imprisonment of the monster Moreno, our southern country
had enjoyed a two years' immunity from blood and rapine, and
in this instance the country rose as a man. Spaniard and
gringo rode stirrup to stirrup, determined to make such an
example and to mete out such retribution PS would be a ter-
rible warning to all future disturbers of the peace of our angel
land. When the last man of the insurgent band had been
hunted down and killed or captured, Tom Mott returned to San
Buenaventura to get his prisoners, and found that, a la Pico,
they had been "confessed." A large number had also been
"confessed" at San Gabriel, and, in fact, in other parts of the
country. And now we will drop the curtain on this bloody
episode in our sanguinary history. The feeling of gratitude on
the part of the gringo population to those noble heroes, Andres
Pico and Tomas Sanchez, was such that Don Andres was soon
thereafter appointed Brigadier- General of the National Guard,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 391

and Don Tomas was made Sheriff of Los Angeles county, and
was permitted to hold the office for near ten years. Many of
our citizens, both gringo and to the manor born, showed of
what mettle they were made. The veteran Thompson gave
evidence of a capacity to command that was an honor to "the
school wherein he learned to ride," and proved that his train-
ing on the frontier of Texas had well fitted him for the honors
that were thrust upon him. William H. Workman, now of
Boyle Plights, then a mere boy, so distinguished himself for
daring, dash and rough riding, as won the admiration of the
country. Of our gallant comrade, Cyrus Lyon, the language
of the immortal Byron can be well applied :

" Of all our band,

Though firm of heart and strong of hand,
In skirmish, march, or forage, none
Can less have said or more have done." .

Cyrus Lyon, a twin brother of Sanford, was born in Machias,
Maine, November 19th, 1831. The two brothers came here in
1849 as clerks for Alexander & Mellus. Both reside in Los
Angeles County, prosperous and happy.

During this terrible excitement every man and boy in the
city was under arms, the veteran Dr. John S. Griffin being in
command. I believe V. A. Hoover was an aid to Dr. Griffin.
Wallace Wobdworth belonged to Mott's company.

There was a member of Mott's company that deserves more
than ordinary mention. He was a* clean, smooth and neatly
dressed fellow named Alexander, universally known as "stut-
tering Aleck." Aleck had been well brought up, was of good
address, polite and gentle in his manners, and a natural born
wit and humorist, and was an out-and-out and inveterate gam-
bler. By birth a Mississippian ; the first we know of Aleck is
when General Taylor's army was encamped at Walnut Springs,
in Mexico, preparatory to its march on Monterey. One day
while sunning himself "around headquarters a Mexican was

392 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

brought in, of whom the General wished to make some
inquiries. He accordingly addressed himself to Aleck and
ordered him to bring some one who could speak Spanish.
Aleck departed and soon returned with a Mexican, to whom
General Taylor addressed himself by saying, "Ask this man
when he left Monterey."

The Mexican thus addressed looked mystified, and said, " No
intiende."

" Do you understand what I say to you, sir ? " repeated the
General.

"No intiende, sefior," was the reply ; whereupon the General
became irate, and turning sharply to Aleck, said :

" Did I not order you, sir, to procure me a person who can
speak the Spanish language ? '"'

" Wu-wu-wu-well, G-g-gu-Gen-er-al, I-l-I-I br-br-brought
you a-a-a nitim-mum-man, who can't speak anything but
Sp-sp-span-ish."

It is needless to say that Aleck went away from the vicinity
of General Taylor's headquarters on a double quick. At the
close of the war Aleck went on board a transport at Vera Cruz

to go to New Orleans, and gave his name as Alexander,

M.D., and was summarily inducted into a state-room. Then
came a fancy Lieutenant, whom the purser billeted with Dr.
Alexander as room-mate for the voyage. It so happened that
the Lieutenant recognized Aleck as an ambulance driver, and
so reported to the purser, who hied himself to Aleck to know
about it. " This officer," said the purser, pointing to the
Lieutenant, " says you are not an army surgeon ; that you are
an ambulance driver." "Army surgeon ? " repeated Aleck ;
"who said I was an army surgeon ? " " Did you not give me

your name, sir, as Alexander, M.D. ?" demanded the

irate purser. " Oh ! certainly, sir," answered Aleck, in his
inimitably droll and stuttering way ; " but in my case, sir,
M. D. stands for mule driver." None but officers being permit-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 393

ted to enjoy the accommodations of the cabin, Aleck had
adopted this ruse to escape the hardships of the steerage, and
succeeded, the joke being so good that the many officers on
board interposed in his favor, and during the voyage he was by
all designated as Doctor Alexander. Aleck was a very reckless
gambler, and was alternately "high up" and "low down."
During one of his periodical downs he got greatly in arrear for
board at the revered Bella Union, and was approached delicately
thereon by the host, Dr. J. B. Winston. In his droll, stutter-
ing way, Aleck turned to the Doctor and said, " Doc, let's
compromise this board bill." "All right," said Winston ;
"what do you propose?" "Well, Doc," Aleck continued,
"fare's low to 'Frisco, and if you'll just come in here and buy
me a ticket to go away on, I'll call it square." The Doctor
seriously considered the proposition, bought Aleck a ticket for
"'Frisco," and squared accounts.

One time when steamship opposition had ran fare down to
five dollars Aleck went on board a steamer at San Pedro with
only $2.50 in his pocket, hoping that he might strike a friend
or increase his capital by a small game of short cards, in both
of which he was disappointed, and in the morning the steamer
lay at Santa Barbara, a point at which the Los Angeles passen-
gers were always called on to produce their tickets or pay their
passage. Aleck was in a desperate strait and was walking the
upper deck, shuffling his five half-dollar pieces in his hand and
devising some way in which he might double it. The only
persons on deck besides himself was a lady and little boy, who
were observing objects on shore. "Mamma," queried the little
fellow, " what is that big house over yonder ? " " That, dear,
is a church," replied mamma. "Well, what is that house
down this way with the big window in the end ? " " That,
dear, is somebody's stable," said mamma. "Now, mamma,"
still queried the little dear, "what is that little bit of a house
there with two little holes in the end?" " That," answered

394

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

mamma hesitatingly, "is somebody's pigeon house." . This
was the first chance Aleck had found to double his capital — the
first thing to get a bet on. So promptly confronting the aston-
ished lady. Aleck stuttered out, chinking his $2.50 up and
down: "Madam, would you like to bet two dollars and a
half that that is a pigeon house ? "

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 395

CHAPTER XXXIV.

A Reminiscence of San Francisco — The El Dorado — A Great Gambling
Hell — Clayt Sinclair and His High Betting — The Diamond Cluster
Pin — A Chinese Thief — A Nest of Burglars and Counterfeiters — Cap-
ture of the Gang — Cora and Richardson — The Allies — The Malikoff
Retaken — The Union.

NE of the warriors of antiquity in proffering to tell
of the seige of Troy said, "I will tell you of what

I - s ^ w , 'Hid of what 1 was." In writing this book of
reminiscences the author has endeavored to write of what he
saw and avoid making a hero of himself. But in the follow-
ing sketch he cannot avoid appearing as one of the principal
actors, and begs the reader's forbearance for thus doing.

When in San Francisco, reader, go thou to that sombre-
looking old building, at the corner of Washington and Kearny
streets, late the "Hail of Records," pass its portals, ascend to
its topmost floor, go from room to room, descend from floor
to floor until you reach the basement and hear the heavy
rumble of wheels above you, and then inquire something of
the past history of the old house, and should the walls answer
you, as every particular stone and brick that go to form its
massive walls could, they would tell strange stories of " El
Dorado," the greatest gambling hell that the world ever saw.
Each brick would tell of strange characters, of disappointed
fortune seekers who, as a last venture, would tempt the fickle
goddess in the gilded halls of the gilded pandemonium ; of
fugitives from justice from all climes under the sun, including
the Jew from Palestine and the Aztec from the valley of

396 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Mexico; of discarded lovers who sought to forget the dreams of
early youth in the flowing bowl, and the painted harlots who
floated around in a blaze of sparkling jems and a cloud of
rustling drapery, of ladies of foreign accent, of former rank in
the old world, who sat behind a mountain of gold and tempted
the visitor with lansquinette, or the former Spanish peasant
girl who assisted the New Orleans gambler, at his game of
rouge-et-noir; of the Hidalgo who manipulated his monte cards
behind a bank of a, hundred thousand dollars, of former minis-
ters of the Gospel of Christ, who sought the ruin of souls in
their games of faro; of the roulette man, with his wheel of
fortune and his vociferous clamors of "Give us $5 on the
Eagle Bird and go home with your pile in the morning."

" The rondo man," "keno," and I was going to say the "three
card monte-man," but let me say (the speaking bricks, I mean),
there was too much grandeur in the El Dorado to permit of so
thieving a game as the last mentioned, which emphatically
belongs to modern times. The bricks will also tell you of the
prosperous merchant arm-in-arm with the professional " capper"
approaching the green baize-covered table with intent to win
enough for his remittance by to-morrow's steamer. Did he
succeed ? Oh no ! At first he won, then lost, lost, lost ! till
all was gone, and with his brain maddened with wine and
frenzied with despair, he seized a bag of $50-ingots, or slugs,
brained the gambler in his seat, escaped from the room and
was never after heard of. The thousand-tongued bricks will
tell of thousands of fortunate gold-seekers on their way to
sweethearts, wives and happy homes, who passed the fatal
portal (which should have borne the inscription that Dante
saw over the gatts of hell) and were fleeced of their gold, and
went forth to join the great column of disappointed forty-
niners whose wearied footsteps have traveled all the unexplored
regions of the universe in search of a " New El Dorado," and
whose fated bones have whitened on the deserts of the great

REMINISCENCES OF A HANGER. 397

interior of Arizona and of Mexico, or have mouldered in the
tropical damps of Central and South America. Like the
Wandering Jew, they march, march, march ! There is an
inward monitor of discontent that urges them on in search of
the " New El Dorado." Will they ever find it ? Oh, no !
not on this side of the river.

Of all that wandering class who were tempted into the " El
Dorado " by the fickle goddess, but few are left. They reveled
in the halls of the gilded king for a night, and that one night
sealed their doom, and made them wanderers upon the face of
the earth.

Diagonally across from the ''El Dorado" was Palmer, Cook
& Co.'s Bank. It is of '54 I write. One night I went into the
'"' El Dorado," and in passing around I found at one of the
tables an old and intimate friend, with whom I had explored
the regions of the Klamath, the Trinity, and of Scott liiver, in
'50 and '51. My friend, by name Clayt Sinclair, now a resi-
dent of Little Bock, Arkansas, was engaged in heavy betting
at monte, was greatly excited, and had won heavily. We had
not met for two years. He was rejoiced to see me, and ceasing
to bet, and pushing over his pile of gold-dust and slugs to the
dealer, said. " Take care of rny money fpr a minute," left his
seat, and taking me by the arm, led me to one side, and
excitedly exclaimed :

" By Jupiter ! Horace, I have won $20,000, and am in a
streak of luck."

" How much did you commence with ? " I inquired.

a Five thousand dollars," said he, and continued, " Do you
play ? "

"No," said I ; "you know I could never learn."

" Good," said he ; "I have $25.000 on that table in dust,
slugs, and certificates of deposit. The bank has $100,000, and
I am going to break it or lose my $25,000. Now," he con-
tinued, drawing forth and handing me his pocket-book, " here

398 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

is a bill of exchange for $5,000. Should you remain with me,
don't you return my pocket-book under any consideration until
you see me on the steamer to-morrow. I am going home, and
my ticket is also in the pocket-book." After vainly endeavor-
ing to persuade him to take his money and retire with me, I
promised at all hazards to hold on to his pocket-book, and -he
returned to his betting.

1 soon seated myself beside him. We were both mere boys
in age at the time, and he went to betting with a continual
run of good luck until he had won over half the bank's capital,
and then his luck began to change, and in three hours he didn't
have a dollar left. With the mien of a maniac he turned to
me and demanded his pocket-book, I didn't have it ; I had
quietly stepped up to the " Old Union," at Merchant street,
and placed it in the hotel safe. I so informed him, omitting to
designate the place I had left it.

Clayt was as wild as a Comanche. Finally he sobered down
into a moment of thought, then hastily taking a magnificent
sparkling pin from his bosom, said to the gambler :

" I gave $1,000 for this pin to-day at Joseph's, on Mont-
gomery street ; lend me $500 on it."

" Let me see," said a female voice, with a broken Mexican
accent, from an adjoining table, and Clayt, without rising,
turned in his seat and held the blazing jewel up until it caught
the glare of the brilliant gaslight, and sent forth a spray of
dazzling gleams that nothing but a pure diamond will do,
when, in a twinkling, the pin was snatched from his grasp, and
away flew the form of a Chinaman, bearing with him Clayt's
last gambling stake, and I in hot pursuit. That Chinaman
flew as on the wings of the wind, and so did I. Once or twice
John was tripped up, but not caught. Out of the main hall
into and through a back room, where a party were engaged in
playing a game of short cards, I still ran after him, with a hur-
rahing crowd at my heels. John seemed to know the way, and

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGEK. 39$

soon gained a pair of stairs that led from a lunch-room into the
basement. Through the crowd of free-lunchers I bolted, and
down-stairs we went, I and John all in a heap — the pursuing
mob having momentarily lost the clue in the lunch-room. I
thought I had him, but in a moment I was beset by a crowd of
pig-tails that seemed perfectly wild with terror and excitement.
The thief darted forward into and through a kitchen, and dis-
appeared through the door, uttering a kind of yowl, which was
neither a howl of rage, of defiance, or of joy, but seemed more
of a signal than anything else. There must have been
twenty Chinamen in that kitchen when I entered, many of
whom disappeared before the baffled crowd of pursuers came in.
I had fortunately seen the door open and shut at the further
end of the kitchen, and was vainly endeavoring to follow, when
several Chinamen interfered to prevent me, insisting that the
fugitive Chinaman had doubled on me, and had gone out up
the stairway through which we descended.

By this time the kitchen was filled by the crowd from the
gambling room, with two or three policemen, who, learning the
circumstance of the robbery, commenced searching the China-
men present, while I quietly stood guard at the door, feeling
that I had cornered my man. The Chinese steward informed
the policemen that he very well knew the Chinaman I had so
rashly pursued down stairs, that he had escaped from the
kitchen by the way he came in ; that he resided in a house on
Dupont street, and that he. the steward, would conduct the
officers thither and would guarantee his immediate capture, at
the same time opening the door of the store room, through
which I had seen my man disappear. To my surprise the
fugitive was not inside. The room had neither door nor win-
dow, except a securely-fastened grated door that opened oppo-
site the street-grating above, as a ventilator. There was little
or nothing in the room, save a pile of sacks of rice in one
corner. The steward entered with a candle and the policemen

400 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

had their laugh at me, and iSaid I was mistaken, that the
Chinaman had outflanked me, and that they would go with the
steward to Dupont street and capture their man. So the door
of the store room was closed and the crowd commenced leaving
the kitchen.

I called one of the policemen to me and asked him if he
would not go to the police headquarters and ask Jim McDonald
(afterwards Chief of Police) to come around. He did so, and
in a few moments McDonald was on hand, accompanied by
Lees (then without fame). I stated privately to them that the
Chinaman was in that room and that he had not escaped.
Lees at once took the matter in hand and ordered all the
Chinamen then present, except the steward, to the lock-up —
cleared the kitchen of the crowd and then proceeded to investi-
gate. It was then two o'clock in the morning.

First, said Lees to the steward, who spoke English: "How
many men have you employed in the kitchen, and what are all
of these Chinamen doing here ? "

"Oh," answered John, "we have one cook, one dishwasher,
four men to tend lunch."

"That makes six," said Lees. '-'What were all the others
doing here ? "

" They my cousins," answered the steward.

We then re-opened the store room — the steward greatly
embarrassed.

"Why have you so much rice and nothing else ?" queried
Lees.

" Chinaman heap eatee lice ? " said John, Lees at the same
time cutting the bamboo strapping of a rice bag, and at the
same moment the steward dashed his candle to the ground,
bolted through the door, which he tried to close after him.
McDonald was too quick for him, however, and in a twinkling
they had the darbies on him and he was properly secured; then
relighting the candle Lees proceeded, and found the rice bag to

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 401

be filled with earth. Then another, and another, all filled in
the same manner.

"By Jove, Mac," said Lees, "we've got the biggest thing
out. I see through the whole thing. You take this fellow to
the lock-up and return immediately with every man you can
bring. See that they are well armed. Myself and this young
man will stand guard until you return. Are you armed ? " said
he to me.

"No," said I.

"Well, Mac, give him your revolver, he may need it. Oh,
we've got them. Don't delay, Jim," said Lees, "hurry back,"
and away went McDonald with his prisoner.

"What is it?" said I, mystified at Lees' confident manner.

"Why, it is this," he answered: "About a week ago, at 4
o'clock in the morning, I stopped on the crossing between Pal-
mer. Cook & Co.'s corner and the corner opposite, and was
listening to a noise I heard in the direction of Pacific street.
Everything was still, and I distinctly heard picking, as though
miners were at work directly under my feet. I remained and
listened until daylight, and have watched the thing ever since.
They have worked to the sidewalk on the Kearny street side of
the bank. They are burglars tunneling to the bank vault, and
we are now guarding the mouth of their tunnel. We have
bagged the batch, young man. Ah! here comes Jim," and
McDonald entered with half a score of policemen with lanterns
and each man armed with a pair of navy sixes.

Removing the pile of rice bags, sure enough we were at the
mouth of the tunnel, which proved to be about two feet wide
and high enough to admit a man's^ entering on his knees 'and
elbows. '

"'Here goes," said Lees, and into the tunnel he went, revolver
in one hand and lantern in the other. Pretty soon we heard
his voice, a short struggle, the smothered detonation of a pistol

shot, and while breathless with suspense, Lees came out back-
26

402 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

ward, dragging with him a wounded Chinaman — Lees himself
being badly injured by a punch with a crow-bar. The steward
was then sent for and ordered into the tunnel to bring out the
miners, with the admonition that if he failed, fire and smoke
would be used. In a moment he returned, followed by four or
five as villainous a looking set of Mongolians as ever crossed
the bay to San Quintin.

As they came out they were- ironed and searched, the
wounded one having concealed — in the folds of his pig-tail —
Clayt's diamond pin. We had made a night of it. By the
time the Johns were safely locked up we had no further use for
candles — it was broad daylight. But Lees continued his inves-
tigations. Under the stairs, down which I had come all a-heap
with the Chinese thief, we found a securely-fastened closet con-
taining the most perfect set of burglars' tools that could possi-
bly be imagined. Old policemen said "nothing Christian half-
way came up to it." Uor was this all. We found a half-dozen
circular saw-mills, ingeniously contrived machines used for
hollowing out fifty-dollar ingots and twenty-dollar pieces.

In a minute one of the mills would cut out the middle of a
coin, leaving just enough to hold it together, when the hollow
would be run full of lead, and the edge creased and galvanized,
and the deception was so perfect that over $20,000 of the 20's
alone had been passed on the banks.

The banks had now opened, and the Palmer, Cook & Co.
Bank Managers were sent for; the tunnel was examined and
found to be neatly timbered overhead and to reach within
twelve feet of the bank vault. Lees gained great eclat, and
deservedly so, in the matter.. I saved Clayt's diamond cluster-
pin, his ticket and his $5,000 home stake.

By the time the excitement was well over, and 1, with Lees
and McDonald, came up stairs, we found poor Clayt looking
dreadfully bad ; hadn't had his breakfast, and not a dollar in
his pocket. I showed him the pin, introduced him to McDon-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 408

aid and Lees, and we all went to a back room in the "Union"
to have a quiet cock-tail, for, be it known, gentle reader, not-
withstanding I hadn't learned to gamble, I could then drink
like a ward politician. It was now noon. The steamer had
left at 10 A. M. Clayt would have to lay over two weeks. He
had $5,000 left, thanks to his fortunate meeting with myself.
We went to Garrison and stated the circumstance to him, and
he endorsed the ticket for the next trip via Nicaragua.

Clayt swore off gambling, but insisted on my exercising
dominion over his funds until he was safe on board the steamer,
which of course I did, and when on board I handed him a bill
of exchange for $4,000 (having changed the $5,000 bill for
$4,000, taking out the $1,000 for his personal expenses), and
retaining the cluster-pin, whicli he insisted I should have as
a remembrance of our adventure at the "El Dorado."

Clayton Sinclair, who was well connected, reached home in
safety, married and settled down, and ten years after our
strange meeting in the great San Francisco gambling hell, I
met him on the tented-field in the Army of the Southwest —
both serving in the Grand Army of the Union.

Lees is known to fame, and deservedly so. As for McDon-
ald I never knew what did become of him, since '56, when he
was Chief of Police in San Francisco.

The Chinamen, to the number of some ten or a dozen, went
over the bay.

The hollowed out coins caused a grand sensation in banking
circles, and a general overhauling of coins. As before stated,
$20,000 in 20's were found, and to the Chinamen, I believe, we
owe this adroit method of mutilating the coins.

I omitted to say at the proper time that in the mining opera-
tions the rice bags were used to pass out the earth from the
tunnel, and would be carried away and disposed of by the out-
side Chinamen.

It was General Kichardson, United States -Marshal, who

404 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

caine down to Los Angeles in '53 for the great Ohio mail
robber, heretofore spoken of. In November, '55, this same
Richardson was killed on Montgomery street, San Francisco,
between Clay and Merchant, by Charles Cora, who in May, '56,
was hung by the Vigilance Committee, in company with Super-
visor James P. Casey, the murderer of James King of William.
Cora was a bred and born New Orleans gambler. The General
was an old faro dealer, and the two had been intimate. Rich-
ardson had attained political position, but still continued his
intimacy with his former gambling friends, and one night, in
company with Cora and others, had been on a drinking bout,
had made the rounds of the gambling houses and other places
of dissipation, and were leaving the Bank Exchange, when
Richardson conceived that Cora had given him some offence.
On the day' following the United States Marshal attempted to
slap the gambler's face, and was shot dead on the spot. An
excitement ensued. The Bulletin was in full blast, and that
sort of business had been made to seem odious, and Cora would
have been peremptorily disposed of but for the fortunate diver-
sion of the public mind in another direction, which was, that
at this very juncture the "Allies" in San Francisco were cele-
brating the foil of Sebastopol, and made a most brilliant
display and procession, which, for the sight-seeing mercurial
public, was an equivalent for a first-class hanging, and poor
Cora was respited until a companion de voyage was found, and
he was sent off in high official company, after having slain a
high federal functionary. Cora was married on the gallows —
a little piece of social comedy permitted by his executioners' — a
foolish thingj neither tragic, dramatic, melo-dramatic, or
farcical. All there was in it was that a harlot with whom he
had been living desired to inherit a large property owned by
Cora, in which she succeeded*

It was strange, but nevertheless true, that during the Cri-
mean war Young America gave the full weight of his influence

REMINISCENCES OF A HANGER. 405

and sympathy to Russia, and although at the time but few
Russians were in San Francisco, when the grand procession of
the "Allies " marched through Montgomery street, on their
way to South Park, cheer upon cheer went up from the side-
walks for Russia, and at early gas-lighting an immense meeting
was held in front of Montgomery Block, which was addressed
by Elkin Heydenfeldt and others. Resolutions were passed
sympathizing with Russia ; bands of music were procured, and
an immense procession formed and marched to Russian Hill, on
Folsom street, to serenade the Czar's Consul, and to present
him with a copy of the resolutions. Bill Ross, formerly of Los
Angeles, was chairman of the meeting, and Albert H. Clark
and the author were of the Committee to wait on the Consul,
who lived within hearing of the music of the "Allies" at South
Park The joy and gratitude shown by the Russian Consul on
that occasion repaid us for the little outburst of Young
American sympathy, not taking into account the magnificent
improvised collation hurried up by the grateful recipient of our
serenade.

In the meantime the "Allies" were not having it all their
own way at the Park. They had built a huge miniature Mali-
koff of pastry and confectionery, which at a given signal was to
be charged upon by the different divisions of the "Allies."
Now it so happened that Charley Duane organized a big crowd
of hard hitters, took position, and when the signal was given
flung to the midnight air a Russian flag, carried the Malikoff
by storm, and planting the banner of the Czar thereon, held
the fort until rolling stock could be procured to carry away the
captured candies and cakes forming the bastions and turrets of
the Malikoff.

Having mentioned the Union Hotel, it may be quite proper
to say that, in '53 and '54, the Union was California's crown
of glory. Every man visiting San Francisco could be found at
some time during the day at the Union. Everybody went

406 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

there ; the chivalry of the times had rooms in the house.
What memories cluster around thy name, Oh ! Union ! In the
zenith of their popularity those princes of good fellows, Myron
Norton and Frank Ball, could always he found at the Union.
Cobarrubias there held his levees, and in thy halls the grey-eyed
nmn, Crabbe, and Bulbon, concocted their schemes of conquest.
Broderick, Bigler, Ned Marshall, Henry S. Foote, all of the
statesmen of the day, the Army and the Navy, patronized the
Union. It was a great place for planning, for getting up cor-
rupt schemes of legislation to rob the people and feather the
nest of the schemers. Political appointments were discussed
and fixed up at the Union ; " slates " were there made out, and
•conventions attended to. Senatorial candidates had to run the
gauntlet of the Union, likewise Collectors of Customs, and all,
appointments, Federal, State and municipal, were discussed and
disposed of at this famous place. When the Legislature would
be in session at Vallejo, Benicia, or elsewhere, or when on
wheels, the members thereof could always, on a Sunday, be
found at the Union, in conference with the " lobby." It was
at the Union, in '54, that Charles P. Duane and Jack Watson,
of Los Angeles, so amused the guests and frequenters in a most
lively skirmish with navy sixes. The Union was the fastest
place in the world. What the rental of the house was I never
knew, but this I vouch for as being true, that in '54 the little
cigar stand at the entrance, just large enough for one man to
stand in, rented for/o?tr thousand dollars a month.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 407

CHAPTER XXXV.

The Great Colorado Desert — A. Legend— A Scientific Man Makes a Great
Discovery— The Desert to be Filled with Water— The Widney Sea-
Fremont to Fill it Up — General Stoneman Knocks the Bottom Out
of It — A Tradition — The Ship of the Desert.

after the massacre of John Glanton and his party,
the military post of Yurna was established. A Lieu-
tenant was the first to command at this hottest of all
places. It was certainly a Botany Bay to the poor soldiers,
who were doomed to roast and swelter in this fiery furnace.
It is said that soon after the establishment of the post a soldier
spread his blankets on the sand, in the cooling shade of a
cottonwood, and dropped off into a deep slumber ; the sun
wore around, the soldier continued to sleep until it struck him.
and then he slept the sleep that knows no waking. When his
comrades found him he was roasted and baked as though he
had been grilled over a hot fire. They buried the poor fellow
with all the honors of war, and tried to console themselves
with the certainty of his having found a better place. But one
night, at the hour whe,n ghosts do walk abroad, the sentry at
the guard house challenged, " Who comes there ?" "A friud,
Patsy McNerny, without the countersign," was the answer.
" Corporal of the guard !" yelled the terrified sentry, on recog-
nizing in the apparition the comrade who had been broiled on
the sand a few days before. The Corporal appeared, and was
informed by the apparition that he had been three days in hell,
and the change of climate was too much for him, was too cold,
so the devil, in sympathy, had furlonghed him long enough to
come back and jret his blanket.

408 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

The Lieutenant, commanding wisely made money during his
brief authority at the crossing of the Colorado. At the time
great numbers of Sonorefios were returning home with large
quantities of gold extracted from the California mines. The
Lieutenant halted them as they went by with the information
that he was stationed at the crossing for the purpose of collect-
ing the Government dues on the exportation of gold from the
United States, and thus possessed himself of possibly half as
much gold as had fallen to the lot of the renowned Jim
Savage. When the news of this transaction reached the War
Department the head thereof, doubtless envious of the good
fortune of this banished son of Mars, instituted inquiries, which
coming to the ears of this modern Croesus, he promptly
resigned his commission, married an angel, settled down, and
became one of the cow kings of a cow county.

Although it was worth a man's life to attempt to cross the
Colorado desert without being well provided with beasts of
burden inured to travel, with well filled water casks, and with
guides familiar with the lay of the land, as the drifting sands
obliterated all traces of the road, and the danger of getting lost
was imminent. Notwithstanding all this, soldiers deserted
from Yuma and struck out for the cooling zephyrs of the coun-
try " inside." In 1852 a party of deserters from Yuma were
pursued and overtaken on the desert by the commanding officer,
whose name I now forget. The resulUwas a terrible fight, in
which the commander and his guard were slaughtered to a
man and their bodies left to parch and blister on the heated
desert sands until a few days thereafter they were found, taken
to Yuma and decently disposed of. Many unfortunate travel-
ers in their anxiety to get "inside" have perished on the
burning wastes of the great desert. Losing their way they
would wander here and there, following the apparition of a lake
and green trees caused by that curious phenomenon of the
desert called mirage.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 409

In laying the rails of the Southern Pacific Railroad the track-
layers found a large number of skeletons of men, women and
children whose bones lay in the exact position in which they
had fallen and died — for be it known, reader, that no wolf or
vulture ever penetrates the fiery basin of the Colorado. On
this discovery being made known, the ; ' journey of death"
of these unknown travelers suggested to the poetic mind of
Kercheval the following terrible legend;

LA JORNADA DE MUERTE.

They had journeyed long and far,
Toward the sinking evening star,
From the far Missouri's shore,
With their cherished household store,
Turning from the Eastern gloam,
Dreaming of a brighter home,
Where the Western ocean laves r
Fairest land with softest waves.

Manhood strong in hopeful years,
Woman with her smiles and tears,
Youths and maidens in the flush
Of life's morning, crimson blush,
Childhood in its joyous glee,
Heedless of the years to be,
Silvery age and beauty fair,
Strength and weakness — all were there ;
Father, mother, husband, wife,
All that tell of hope and life.

Leaving home's soft hallowed gleam,
For a brighter, golden dream,
Snapping all the ties that bind,
Turning, leaving all behind.
Loosing all love's links at last,
Garnered memoiies of the past
Of the consecrated years,
Altars reared 'mid smiles and tears,
Tender voices, pleading eyes,
Graves of loved ones — all the tits
Fond and tender round us cast,
That may bind us to the past.

Where the savage bands hold sway,
Onward, westward, journeyed they,

410 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Through (he land of lance and bow,
Of the fierce Arapaho ;
O'er the lonely, lonely miles,
Through the treacherous defiles,
Shrouded, dark, and murder-dyed,
Death and danger side by side;
Through the dread Apache lands,
Through the Gila's weaiy sands,
'Neath its sighing coltonwood,
Westward, till at last they stood,
Weary-worn and travel-sore,
On the Colorado's shore.

Hazy dimness like a pall.
Quivering, overshadowed all ;
On the river's farther shore,
Desolation spread before.
There the desert's fiery breath,
Furnace-fanned and fraught with death,
Ever casts its withering spell,
Dark as sin and hot as hell.
There the shriveled zephyr flees
O'er the grave of perished seas,
'Neath the glow of fiery skies,
Hopeless, moaning, faints and dies.

•

Where the blasted levels lay,

Slow they took their weary way,
Through that awful desert-sea,
Hopeful of the days to be.
But a little — they should rest
At the portal of the West —
Of the earthly Paradise
Overached by softest skies.

Hour by hour they strove and toiled,
Thirst-beset and furnace-broiled,
All a night and all a d;iy,
Toiling on their weary way ;
Still another cruel night,
O'er that awful desert blight,
Every vein a stream of iiiv,
Burning with a hot desire:
Strength and courage almost spent,
Saddened by some dread portent
Ot a dark and direful end
That they might not comprehend ;
Slow their drooping beasts they urge
Toward the dim horizon verge,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 411

Till each black and swollen tongue
From the fevered lips outhung.

Slowly sank the fervid sun
When that day wa<* almost done;
But a darker, death! ier pall
Gathered threatening over all.
Sudden swept the whirlwind's breath,
O'er that dread expanse of death,
And the burning sands arose,
Drifting like the wintry snows,
With their smothering, blinding wrack,
Over fading trail and track,
Like the mad waves tempest-tost,
Till all things were hid and lost.

Utter woe with ruin blent,
When that blast of hell was spent,
Beasts lay dead and dying there,
Death, and horror, and despair,
Like an awful nightmare pressed
Dark and heavy on each breast.
Slowly passed the night away.
And another burning clay
Found them of all hope bereft, —
Not a drop of water left,
Not a beast to give them aid,
Not a shrub to give them shade;
All around a dazzling gleam,
Death and horror reigned supreme.

Long they wandered where the sands
Scorched and seared like burning brands, —
Where the zephyrs faint and die,
On the plains of alkali;
But no crystal fount or stream,
Gladdened with its silvery gleam —
Scarce a hope its glimmer lent,
Strength and courage almost spent.

Sudden cried a drooping child,
Starting with a gesture wild,
As her face despair forsook,
"There is water, mother — look!
See! a lake spreads far and wide,
And the green trees fringe its side."
Lo! before their longing eyes
Spread a dream of Paradise,
Stretching brightly far away,

412 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Mirror-like the waters lay.
Never fell the sun's hot kiss
On a fairer oasis
'Mid the burning wastes of sand
Of swart Afric's lonely land.
Glancing in the sun's bright beams,.
Flashing far their dazzling gleams,
Like a diamond's radiant light,
Lay the waters pure and blight,
And encircling, close and fond,
Kose the emerald hills beyond.

Swiftly o'er each burning brain,
Rushed the flood of hope again.
Soon their weary steps should rest
In that Eden of the West,
And their burning feet might lave
In the cooling, 'crystal wave.
Long that gleam their steps pursued
O'er the awful solitude,
Still evading with its glow
Every footstep, fast or slow,
Ever mocked their longing eyes
With its glint of Paradise;
Like the glitter of a star,
Seeming never near nor far.

Ever from their burning feet
Seemed that vision to retreat,
From their ardent longing haste,
Till it vanished o'er the waste,
Melted into dimness gray,
Faded, fled and passed away.

Still they struggled, staggering, blind,
Doubt before and death behind ;
Still pursued each mirage bright,
Till it faded from their sight,
Baseless as a midnight dream,
Or the gorgeous rainbow's gleam.

Years and years had sped and gone,
Gloom of eve and flush of dawn,
Silent each succeeding each,
Never woke by human speech ;
Never human footstep fell
Faint to break that ghastly spell ;
In the desert's fiery breath,

KEMINISCENCES OF A KANGEK. 413

Silence, mystery, awe and death,
Brooding ever still the same,
When the mighty builders came,
Laying down their iron track
O'er the desolation black,
With resistless Titan tread,
Heedless of the wastes outspread,
Clasping firm the iron bands,
Linking lands to sister lands,
When they paused at what they saw,
With a mute and trembling awe.

Ringed around in circle white,
Holding each to other tight,
Bleaching skeletons lay there
With their empty sockets' glare,
Vacant staring, westward turned,
Still as when the eyeballs burned,
With that last despairing look,
When life's quivering pulse forsook.
Not a rav'ning beast or bird,
Fleshless limb or trunk had stirred ;
Not a hungry wolf might dare
Thus to brave the desert's glare,
In that waste of terror wide —
Thus they lay as thus they died.

O'er those men of iron fp 11
Tearful pity's tender spell,
As they gaze*' with halting breath
On that circle dread of death,
And they left them to their sleep
In that stillness lone and deep, —
Awed and fearful turned away,
Turned and left them as they lay,
With a whispered, trembling prayer,
In that awful silence there —
Left them with a shuddering thrill,
Firm in death, united still.

In 1S53, and for many years thereafter, Doctor Wozencraft
urged upon the Government the advisability, practicability and
necessity of reclaiming the Colorado desert, by the introduction
of water, through irrigating canals, from the Colorado River.
A great many theories have been advanced as to the causes that
produced this wonderful basin of burning sand, and the philo-

414 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

sophical mind of the author could reach no further than to
believe that whenever or however the infernal place had been
formed, nature was certainly in a very bad frame of mind — an
ill-humor, out of sorts ; or that if ever contemplated in the
" plan of creation," the Creator had overlooked or forgotten to
give the finishing touch to this part of his work, or had let
out the contract to a sub-contractor, without taking a sufficient
surety bond.

The Government made several reconnoisances of this dis-
jointed part of creation ; one by order of Jefferson Davis, Secre-
tary of War, in '53, and made under Lieutenants Parke and
Williamson. The military command of the reconnoisance was
under General George Stoneman, then a Captain. This sci-
entific reconnoisance failed to discover anything other than
the Colorado desert, which looked as old as the hills which
surrounded it. The object of this survey, however, was the
examination of the most available pass to San Diego for a
southern transcontinental railroad. Notwithstanding thou-
sands of people had journeyed through this frightful basin, and
the Government had sent a scientific commission to examine it,
nothing peculiar was observed concerning it until about 1865.
A young surgeon of volunteers passed over this desert on his
way to Arizona. The western rim of the basin at Carizo Creek
is composed of almost perpendicular cliffs of soft red rock, and
high up on the sides thereof you can see, as plainly defined as
the cornice on the Capitol at Washington, the water level of a
former sea or lake. The Doctor, observing this, concluded
that this basin of burning sand must have at some former time
been filled with water. This was the discovery of a scientific
circumstance. Journeying through Arizona, the Doctor discov-
ered evidences of a former dense population of civilized people.
This was another scientific circumstance. He further observed
remains of ancient forests. Here was another scientific circum-
stance. The acute scientific eye of the Doctor noted many other

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 415

circumstantial evidences of that devil's land having once been
God's country. That, to have supported a dense population of
civilized people Arizona must have been a fertile land; to have
produced and grown forests it must have had moisture, and
from the lack of moisture the former forests died out, and from
the same cause the fertile fields of the former inhabitants be-
came the sterile wastes that so blast the eyes of those who now
traverse them; that the unfortunate inhabitants had from
these causes died of famine, or had in a body left the country.
What could have been the cause of all this, reasoned the scien-
tific mind of the Doctor ? He saw the effect, and there must
have been a cause. This the learned gentleman readily traced
to the drying up of this inland sea. Keeping his own counsel,
when the Doctor returned to the Colorado river he observed
that when the river was very high, it had cut a slough through
its porous bank, and that the water rushing through discharged
itself into the desert. Here was a ' discovery deduced from
scientific observation, that would stand second only to that of
Columbus, in his, at the time strange assertion, that one could
go east by sailing west, or the immortal Doctor Money's dis-
covery of the " Zwirro Zwirro," a curious plan of which may
be seen on the file of records of Los Angeles county.

"The dessicating climate of Arizona, New Mexico and Chi-
huahua (thus reasoned the Doctor), shall be moistened; trees
shall be made to grow on plains, where Gila monsters and
rattlesnakes do now die of thirst; Arizona shall be repeopled,
and the joyous laugh of the happy husbandman shall resound
where desolation now reigns supreme. A desert of greater ter-
ritorial extent than that subjected to the dominion of Christ by
the great Conquistador shall be made to blossom as the rose.
Cortez tumbled down the heathen temples of Anahuac. This
discovery will cause to be erected thousands of Christian spires
pointing heavenward, where now the owl keeps silent because
of there being nothing at which to hoot."

416 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

Was not this a grand conception ? "A plan of creation" as
was a plan — the outcroppings of a sublime creative genius ?

"All this change shall be wrought by deepening that over-
flowing artery of the Colorado River, and filling the desert
basin with fresh water."

" This will produce moisture. Moisture is all that is neces-
sary to restore these desert lands to their former fertility."

All of these scientific reasonings and discoveries the Doctor
gave to the world through the medium of the Overland
Monthly. So astounding was this to the savants, that some
up-country college 'conferred on this remarkable discoverer
(who was to confer on mankind so great a blessing at so little
expense) the degree of Master of Arts, and all angel-land
rejoiced thereat.

The all powerful Star of the Angel City demanded that the
thing be done, and without delay. That a company be
organized to shoulder their shovels and go down, deepen that
natural ditch and turn the water in and refill the basin. That
the basin should no longer be called the Colorado desert. That
the maps should be changed and the Colorado desert should be
forever after ca led, named, designated and known in honor of
the discoverer as

" THE WIDNEY SEA. "

The angel world agreed with great unanimity as to the feasi-
bility of the scheme. About this time a party of surveyors
were sent from San Francisco to survey the flat lands at the
mouth of the Colorado, and it was rumored that the party had
gone down to fill the desert with water. This filled the angel
mind with indignation. This was our discovery and we were
going to have all the honor thereto belonging. If necessary
force should be used to prevent this outrage threatened by our
great northern rival. It so happened that one of our most
prominent angels had a brother who was in charge of that band
of up-country surveyors, and he wrote to him a feeling letter to

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 417

find out what they were about. In due course of time the
gentleman in charge of the survey (the brother of Captain
Alfred James, the Register of the Land Office at Los Angeles)
answered the inquiry frankly and assured us that he had no
designs whatever on our " Widney Sea/' which gave us great
relief, for in all truth we were always jealous and suspicious of
San Francisco.

Many of our more practical angels now began to interpose
objection to filling the "Widney Sea" with water and thereby
changing our heavenly climate to one of moisture and malaria.
"Any change in Arizona/' said they, " would be for the better;
but no change could improve the perfection of climate and
beauty of scenery in our angel land." Others argued that
with the remarkable fertility of our soil a moist climate
would produce an unnatural vegetable and animal growth, that
our boasted orange groves would be ruined, that the trees
would attain the size of the sequoia gigantea and the fruits
thereof would be larger than the largest Monte pumpkins, that
our harmless little snakes would become boa constrictors, and
the little horn frogs grow as large as a Florida alligator, and the
gophers and squirrels that now so vex us would obtain the size
of elephants and grizzly bears. Still others maintained that
by making this great inland sea, serious complications would
arise; that the Government had granted the right. of way
across the Colorado desert to three or more railroad companies,
and in its might would interfere and stop us in our aims; that
it would not permit us to interfere with railroad construction
to th'e Pacific ocean. These questions became as serious, bitter
and uncompromising as the controversy between the " Big
Endians and Little Endians" of Gulliver's travels, and delayed
the consummation of the little job until the Pathfinder was
sent out by the Government to be the gubernatorial head and
ruler of the gentle Arizonians, and on his way thither laid over

in the Angel city to review the scenes of his former triumphs
27

418 REMINISCENCES OK A RANGER.

and glory. Here he was interviewed by those in favor of filling
the " Widney Sea" with fresh water. He accordingly, after a
careful examination, determined that the thing could and
should be done, and about 1879 went to Washington to solicit
government aid thereto. The practical mind of all this sug-
gested to General Geo. Stoneman an arithmetical computa-
tion as to the amount of water and the length of time necessary
to fill our " Widney Sea," and he gave to an audience of
astonished angels the result of his calculation in a public lec-
ture in the words and figures following, to-wit:

"Much has been said of late regarding a great geological
basin, lying between the coast range of mountains in California
and the Colorado river on the east. This basin is represented
as being three hundred miles long, fifty miles wide and three
hundred feet deep — about the size of Lake Erie. We are told
that Governor Fremont, of Arizona, has just returned from
Washington, where he has been for the purpose of inducing
Congress to lend the aid of the Treasury to enable some one to
fill this basin with water. The Governor has been, during his
checkered life, engaged in some grand and conspicuous enter-
prises, but in this case he has evidently laid his plans before he
consulted his figures. Let us make the calculation for him.
To fill such a pond in one year, supposing the bottom to be
water-tight and evaporation entirely checked, would require a
small stream twenty miles wide, twenty feet deep, with a cur-
rent of three miles an hour. To fill such a lake by a stream
one thousand feet wide, ten feet deep, and running at the rate
of three miles an hour, would take two hundred years. After
this lakjB was filled it would require a river two hundred and
fifty feet wide, ten feet deep, and running at the rate of five
miles per hour — about the size of the Colorado river at ordinary
stages — to compensate for evaporation at the rate of eighteen
inches per year. Archimedes, you know, said that he could
move the world, only give him a fulcrum. Fremont says he
can make sea, only give him plenty of greenbacks. The one is
about as impracticable as the other chimerical. When he
makes his estimates he will come to the conclusion that long
ere he can fill his basin with water, the great Engineer of the
universe will have filled it with the sands of the desert, driven
down by the ever-prevailing winds of the north. In the mean-
time it will probably be used for the purposes intended by the
Almighty — the occupation by the horned toad, rattlesnake and
Southern Pacific Railroad."

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 419

We were somewhat chilled by this cool disposition of our
hopes; so much so that we have thence hitherto kept our peace
on the subject, and it is with deep chagrin that we confess the
mortifying fact that General Stoneman knocked the bottom out
of the

"WIDNEY SEA/'

Many, many long years or centuries ago — long before the
Conquistador, with his steel-clad followers, met in mortal com-
bat the effete warriors of Aztec land, conquered their capital,
and extended the dominion of Spain to the northern confines of
civilization in the new world — yes ! tradition hath it, that
where the Colorado desert reigns in its awful solitude, a great
sea of fresh water existed, having no connection with the great
ocean, with the most beautiful river discharging its constant
flow therein. This beautiful inland sea was studded with
islands of tropical beauty ,, with evergreen forests, filled with
birds of brilliant plumage and of sweetest song. That the
crystal waters of this sea, or lake, were alive with beautiful
fishes, colored with sunlight and tinted with the hues of the
rainbow, and myriads of aquatic fowls covered its placid bosorn.
Forests of magnificent trees descended from the mountain
crests and kissed the limpid waters at their feet, and broad and
far-stretching savannas were spread out like carpets of varie-
gated colors, over which ranged countless herds of antelope, and
gamboled the elk and the deer. On the western shore of this
great lake dwelt in all human happiness and prosperity the
powerful Mojaves, while the eastern bank was dominated by
the warlike Cocopahs, who collected an annual tribute from the
more refined and less warlike Mojaves. Among other things,
and most grinding of all, the gentle Mojaves were bound to
furnish annually a large number of their most beautiful virgins
to supply the harem of the licentious Cocopah King. Many
times the Mojaves discussed in solemn council the question of
resisting this humiliating exaction, but being admonished by

420 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the power, warlike and ferocious character of the terrible
Cocopahs, the matter was always postponed until a future and
more favorable time.

At last an old king of the Mojaves, whose policy had been
one of peace and submission, died, and was succeeded by his
son, a man of high mettle, who had trained himself and the
subjects of his father in the arts of war. A very short time
after his accession to the throne, the Cocopah Commissioners
appeared at the Mojave capital to receive the annual tribute,
which the young king flatly refused to pay, sending a message
to the Cocopah despot that he could not send warriors enough
to cany away even one Mojave maiden ; that the men of
Mojave wanted the daughters of the kingdom for wives, and as
such were able to defend them.

Terrib.e was the wrath of the Cocopah King at receiving
this unheard of defiant message. He at once ordered the great
war drum to be beaten; that its reverberations might be heard
on the utmost confines of his dominion; that his warriors might
assemble at his capital on the shores of the great lake. The
Mojave King in the meantime was wide awake to the respon-
sibility he had assumed and resolved to at once cross the water
and attack the despot in his capital. No time was lost in
preparation; a flotilla was launched, and the very flower of
the Mojave chivalry, with their heroic King leading the van,
crossed over the smooth waters of the lake and fell upon the
Cocopah capital with such terrific fury that their warriors fell
before them as reeds fall before the fierce norther. The sur-
vivors fled to the forest like startled antelope, leaving the proud
city of the Cocopahs with all its treasures the spoil of the con-
queror. Returning to his capital the Mojave king was received
with great rejoicing by his exultant subjects. But his great
victory only impelled him to greater exertion; his success h'e
well knew was not owing to strength or superiority of prowess,
but to the superlative audacity of the attack. He knew full

REMINISCENCES OF A HANGER. 421

well of his utter inability to maintain an aggressive war, so he
made vigorous preparations for defense.

In due course of time the pent up Cocopah storm burst upon
the well prepared Mojaves, and deluged their beautiful land
with blood. After conflicts unparalleled in fierceness, the
invaders were driven across the Silver Lake, and the Mojave King
was again victorious. Now followed a war on the lake, some-
times with advantage to the Mojaves then to their enemies ;
they strove for the possession of the emerald islands of the

Silver Lake. At last dominion over the lake was won to the

*

Cocopahs and the Mojaves beaten — but not defeated — aban-
doned the conflict on the water and retired to their defensive
works on the main land. By this time — and the war had raged
for years — the Cocopah King had enlisted under his banner the
fierce Yumas, the rich Pimas and the powerful Maricopas,.
and assembled an army that in numbers was beyond the
powers of computation. When the valiant Mojave King
received information of this formidable alliance he gave up all
hope of successful defense, but resolved to bury himself and
people in the ruins of his country rather than submit. He
would have fain carried the war into the Cocopah country, and
have battled this mighty host on their own land, but his fleet
was gone, his treasury was depleted, the flower of his warriors
were dead, but the oracles of the Mojaves still assured him of
victory, and when the flotilla of the invading host appeared
upon the bosom of the beautiful lake, the defiant Mojave king
with the remnant of his army grimly awaited their landing.
On they came ! Their great war canoes in numberless lines
extending to the right and left as tar as the eye could reach.
It was a beautiful day and the sun gleamed and glittered on
the water rippled by the numberless paddles of the, great fleet
as it swept in the majesty of might over the mirror surface of
the tranquil lake. The advance line is now midway from the
middle of the lake to the Mojave shore, when there appeared

422 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

in the far horizon, ominous spiral columns of revolving clouds.
They came sweeping over the surface of the placid waters in
gyrating circles, the smaller columns uniting with and being
absorbed by the greater, around which they all revolved, and
by the time they m-aivd tim left of the lines of the great flotilla,
they had all united iu one grand gyrating circular column of
great height. Now the astonished Mojaves can hear the thun-
der of its march, can see the disturbed waters as they form in
grand and foaming crests as the monster sweeps along with a
terrible roaring sound. Now it strikes the flotilla, and the
great war canoes in thousands disappear in the foam and spray
of wind and water met in terrific conflict. The great whirl-
ing, foaming and awful monster of destruction now settles
down over the very center of the lake, and the flotilla of the
invading host spins around and around until the last one is
drawn into its devouring embrace. But still it gyrates and
increases to such immensity of size that the sun is obscured
and darkness falls upon the face of the earth. A great tornado
strikes the terrified Mojaves and fells the forest around pnd over
them and kills and destroys them in great numbers, and a
stupor of terror overcomes the survivors, who lie thus they
know not how long. The King is the first to arise, he beats his
war drum to call his warriors around him; only a few answer
to the call, the many having been crushed by the fallen forest.
The sun shines brightly and the king and the survivors of his
army look toward the beautiful lake, and lo ! it has disappeared
— it has been dried up. The emerald islands are gone, and
nothing remains but the white sand glittering in the bright
sunlight. The King looks around; all is desolation, and he
thinks a general ruin has fallen upon the world. He turns his
face away from the dried up lake, and followed by his surviving
warriors he wends his way toward his capital which he finds
in the valley of perpetual bloom as he left it, and when the
astonished Mojaves are informed of the terrible doom that fell

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 428

upon their enemies, and notwithstanding the drying up of the
beautiful lake and the loss of so many of their warriors, they
rejoice, glorify their King, and are happy.

About the time of the excitement about the " Widney Sea,"
Captain Joshua A. Talbot (a veteran explorer, whose fame as
such has not been confined to the Pacific slope, but has crossed
the Andes of South America, and descended into the valley of
the mighty Amazon, and gone over the sea to Australia), in
one of his many explorations, journeying on the desert, came
upon the hulk of a ship half buried in the sand. The Captain
and his followers were speechless in the intensity of their
amazement. They looked at each other, then looked at the
ship. They gazed at the ship, and then looked inquiringly
into each other's Ryes ; and then they commenced to walk
around and clamber to her long-deserted deck, and examine
this wonderful discovery. The rigging, of course, was gone.
The masts were worn down to short and rounded stumps, as
were the bulwarks, almost even with the deck (so said the
discoverers), all caused evidently by the raspings of time and
drifting sand. The depleted water vessels of the Captain and
his comrades admonished them that further delay would be at
the risk of their lives, and they reluctantly abandoned their
prize, and'pushed on to the next watering-place, and thence to
the angel city, and reported the discovery, and filed their claim
to all the treasure therein contained. Uncle Josh (so called)
and his fellow-explorers at once became heroes, each the centre
of a ciicle of anxious inquirers. Uncle Josh was of the opinion
that the vessel was a Spanish galleon, and was undoubtedly
laden with doubloons, and that at the lowest possible calcula-
tion there were millions in it.

This opinion w'as dissented to by some of the more nautical
of the discoverers, who maintained that the build of the ship
resembled a Chinese junk, while an Italian insisted that it was •
in his opinion an ancient Roman war galley. These various

424 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

opinions gave rise to a learned newspaper controversy as to the
origin of the ship, and how she came to her present place of
repose. One more practical reasoned that " the vessel was one
lost from the first, expedition of the Conquistador to explore
the Sea of Cortez; that a strait connecting the ' Widney Sea'
and the Sea of Cortez had been closed by a violent storm, that
the vessel was abandoned by her crew; that by evaporation the
cut off sea had dried up and left the ship dry on the sand."
Another produced abundant authority to prove that the ship
was one of a Tartar fleet driven to our coast; that in the year
1280 Genghis Khan, the Great Mogul, after having subjugated
China, fitted out an expedition of 240,000 men in 4,000 ships
under his son Kublai Khan for the purpose of conquering
Japan. While this expedition was on its voyage to that coun-
try a violent storm arose and destroyed a great part of the fleet
and drove many of the vessels to the coast of California, and
Uncle Josh's prize was surely one of that fleet. A very wise
angel waited until all of the others had their say, and then he
settled the question and produced such unimpeachable author-
ity that all save Uncle Josh gave it up.

This sabe lo todo argued " that the strange ship was without
the shadow of doubt one of the ships that carried a part oi one
of the lost tribes of Israel that found their way to and peopled
California. As authority he referred to the Book of Mormon,
the revelations of Joseph Smith, Brigham Young and others of
the Latter Day Saints of holy inspiration, and as further evi-
dence he pointed to the singular physiognomical resemblance
between our Jewish population and the aboriginal inhabitants."

This elaborate fulmination of the learned man was deemed
conclusive, and we all gave it up except the gallant Talbot,
who stood by his former opinion and put his faith and his
money in a- train of jackasses laden with water casks, shovels,
axes, crowbirs, cold chisels and canvas bags wherein to carry

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 425

away the doubloons, and followed by his fellow discoverers set
out for the desert to loot his prize.

For once in his life the sapient veteran was mistaken, but
what of that ? He paid for his mistake. The ship of the
desert turned out not to be a Spanish galleon; neither was she
a Roman war galley; not a Chinese Junk or one of the lost
fleet of Genghis Khan; nor the luckless craft that brought the
lucky Hebrews to this Happy land; but the ship of the desert
turned out to be a craft formerly built by Messrs. Perry and
Woodworth, of Los Angeles, to be used in explorations on the
Colorado river; that her motive (mule) power gave out on the
desert and she was abandoned to become a theme of discussion,
for men of learning and of Science.

426 ' REMINISCENCES OF A KANGEU.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

A Reminiscence of Sacramento — King Solomon Gets His Gold in Califor-
nia — An Ancient Description of the Country— The 200- Pound Dia-
mond — The El Dorado War — Murder — The Diamond Again — Smirmish
With Indians — A Discovery — Gold Lake — San Francisco — T. Butler,
King and Uncle Sam's Coin- Frank Ball Again.

AUGUST, 1850, with three companions, I was en-
camped under that old, historical oak tree on the levee
at Sacramento, just below the foot of J street and almost
overhanging the landing of the steamers Neio World, Senator
and McKim.

My story commences on a beautiful Sabbath afternoon, and
of course many of our readers will remember how a Sunday
afternoon looked in the "Crescent City" in the summer of
1850. To those who don't know, I am going to inform them
as best I can.

In the first place, imagine yourself at the " Humboldt," away
out on J street — a grand rag palace or gambling hell, literally
swarming with gamblers and desperadoes of all classes and
nativity, with brazen-faced, gaudily-dressed, painted and pow-
dered harlots, who sat beside the gamblers at the monte-banks,
faro-tables, rouge et noir, lansquinette, roulette, rondo and
other games; but I hereby bear witness that these games were
played at the "Homboldfc" with a greater degree of fairness,
integrity and honor than could have been found in any other
country on the face of the earth, because if a man was caught
cheating he was killed on the spot — that such contemptible
thieving as three-card monte, chuck-a-luck, and such kindred

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 427

games, were no more tolerated at the "Humboldt" at that
time than they would be in the grand reception-rooms of the
Palace Hotel to-day; and I will say as much for the "New
Orleans," "Woodcock" and the "Empire" (the latter was
kept by Butler, brother to Benj. F. Butler, of Massachusetts)
at Sacramento, the "El Dorado" and "Bella Union," of San
Francisco, and all other first-class gambling houses at the time.
The California gambler in those days was a magnate in the
land, and had as much honor or more at stake in the fair-deal-
ing of his bank as have our State and national rulers, our mod-
ern bankers, our revenue collectors, and all our officials at the
present time in the honest discharge of their duties. The first-
class gambler at that time was a man of integrity — a dignitary.
A miner who came to Sacramento or San Francisco with a hun-
dred or five hundred ounces was just as safe to deposit it with
any of the great gamblers, at those noted places of pioneer
times, as one is to-day to intrust his money for safe-keeping to
the bank of California.

My intent, however, is not to dwell upon the good qualities
of the great gamblers of "the days of gold," but to give the
reader an idea of how things were in Sacramento thirty-one
years ago.

Of course there was a first-rate band of music at the " Hum-
boldt," as at all others. Passing down J street, in every block
you found gambling-houses in full blast, but all of inferior
note, until you reached the "Empire," near the levee, which
was in all respects the peer of the "Humboldt." The music
in these places, the clinking of great piles of $50 gold slugs,
the noise of the bags of gold-dust as the reckless miners would
throw them upon the table and " go their pile " on the " eagle-
bird," or bet a hundred ounces on the turn of a card, and the
constant cry of the roulette-man of " Make your game, gentle-
men!" "Away she spins !" "Double O, red!" caused a great
din and clatter, and to add to the noise imd confusion of the

428 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER..

whole street, from the "Humboldt" to the " Woodcock," old
Joe Grant, of sainted memory, went roaring along : " The New
York Herald, Louisville Journal and Missouri Republican!
only a half-a-dollar apiece ! Who -.vants to go to 'Frisco ?
'Ere's a ticket on the Senator ! Don't go on the McKim; if
you do you'll get drowned ! She'll be sure to sink 'fore she
gets there! Buy your tickets for the Senator!" The Joe
Grant here referred to was an Illinois man, and the pioneer
news vender and steamboat runner at Sacramento, and after-
ward became th« proprietor of the famous Knight's ferry — the
same man supposed to have been General U. S. Grant, who in
fact was not in California until, I believe, '54. The street was
thronged with men of all colors and classes, on foot or on
horseback, and with pack-mules, going to or coming in from
the mines, with a general pushing, jamming and crowding of
everybody. This is about as it was on a Sunday afternoon at
the time referred to. And now about the two-hundred-pound
diamond.

I had passed up and down the street, had visited the " Hum-
boldt " and " Woodcock " and " Empire," and had returned
to our camp under the big oak, and was sitting with my back
resting against its huge trunk, engaged in reading, when 1 was
politely accosted by a venerable-looking man, genteelly clad in
miner's costume, who begged to know what I was reading. On
being told that the book which I was reading was a copy of the
Bible, he manifested much surprise, and gravely shaking his
head, said :

"Strange, indeed, a boy of your age engaged in reading the
Holy Book, when surrounded by go many temptations to evil."

He then went on with a strange lecture on the danger to youth
and inexperience in this wonderfully wicked land, where every
thought, wish and desire were for gold, gold, gold. He essay-
ed to give some good advice which I reverently listened to.
His manner was grave and dignified. His language, although

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. > 429

partaking of a foreign accent, was more than good : it was
elegant. The old man remained conversing with me for a
full hour, and on taking his departure invited me to visit his
camp on the edge of the wood, at about the foot of P street.

According!} 7 , on the following day I made the visit, and
found him beautifully tented under the boughs of a great
spreading oak, with everything pertaining to his camp the
very perfection of neatness. Within three days the old man
and myself became very intimate. I had informed him
where I was born and reared, of my ancestors, and many
other frivolous trifles.

On the afternoon of the fourth day of our acquaintance, after
partaking of the good cheer of his well-stockedlarder, he gravely
informed me that he had something of importance to communi-
cate. He said that he had been for some time seeking for
one in whom he could repose enough confidence to confide
a great secret. He was satisfied as to my moral integrity, and
felt safe in confiding to me a secret that would make me far
richer than the whole Rothschild family, and that he knew of
the existence and location of a diamond of two hundred pounds
weight. My credulity was somewhat staggered, and the old
man seeing it, said :

" My young friend, be patient until I am done. This
diamond is no new thing."

1 thought it must be very old, judging from its size, but I
was patient and said nothing.

" This diamond was once the property of King Solomon,"
my venerable friend continued, "and I will show you a book
that proves it."

He thereupon unrolled a bunglesome package and drew forth
and held up before my astonished gaze an ancient and mys-
terious looking book, printed in strange characters. t

" Now," said he, " be silent and I will tell you all about this
book and how it relates to the diamond. I am a Christian,

430 * REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

though descended from the J?ws. My most remote ancestor,

who wrote this book, was chief jeweler to the wi$e and rich

/
King Solomon."

" Good Lord !" said I, " that book w*is not written when
Solomon was king ?"

"Did yon not promise to keep silent," said he, quickly,
"and not interrupt the thread of my story ? But to satisfy
you, I will say that the book has been renewed every two hun-
dred years since the original copy was made, and this book was
written one hundred and ninety-eight years ago by my great-
great-grandfather. Had I not found the diamond, it would
have become my duty to reproduce this book two years hence
and transmit it as a legacy to my descendants in the same
manner that it has been handed down to me for so many
thousands of years. Now, are you satisfied ?" said he.

"Perfectly/' said I.

" My most remote ancestor," he continued, "was Lord Chief
Jeweler to the great Jewish king, and went on one of the great
expeditions to the Land of Ophir in search of gold. And this
isOphir!" said he, with a great emphasis, "and this book
gives a much better and more minute description of the gen-
eral topography of this country than any and all the modern
books now extant. My great ancestor was at the head of a
grand and separate division of the great expedition, whose
special province it was to search for precious stones. The
ships of the Jewish gold and diamond-seekers entered the
Golden Gate, and established a city for the base of supplies at
the place now called Vallejo, and the most eligible site on the
bay at present," continued the old man. " The description in
this book of the bay is perfect. They also had a depot at the
place where we now camp. The gold miners spread out on the
mountain slopes in about the same manner as they do now.
The seekers for diamonds did the same, went further, but
found no diamonds. In this book they describe every moun-

REMINISCENCES OF A HANGER. * 431

tain gorge and river bed where their search extended..
Finally they went beyond the great snow-barrier to the
deep lake, and they found diamonds in abundance — the
largest of which is the one now in question. My great and
remote ancestor concluded to appropriate it to himself, as an
official perquisite, he therefore concealed the diamond on the
very summit of a great solid mound of time-enduring granite,
on the margin of the great deep lake, and retraced his steps
to the sunny side of the mountains, intending to return
with a few chosen servants and secretly remove the great
treasure. Arriving at the city on the bay, my remote ancestor
found that the great and wise king had ordered the expedition
to return forthwith, and that the whole grand gold and
diamond-seeking enterprise in the land of Ophir was to be
abandoned for ever. My unfortunate remote ancestor, having
lost his great diamond and the chance of ever possessing it, set
himself to describe the place where it is now concealed, and
this book is the result of his wise and prudent forethought.
With this book I was enabled to pursue my way to the lake and
find the very granite cone whereon lies and has lain the great-
est treasure the world has ever known for so many centuries.
It now lies on the summit of and in the very centre of that
same granite cone, that is now worn down by the action of the
elements almost to the level of the water in the lake. I have
been there and have seen and handled it.. I have examined
it and know its immense value. I was taught to read this
book, and have taught my children to read its world-forgotten
characters. But none of the descendants of the original writer
knew of or found the land of Ophir, wherein slept the great
diamond. One year ago I was lapidary for the Czar of Russia
— for that trade has been the hereditary calling of my family —
and seeing daily accounts of the wonderful discoveries of gold
in this remote and unknown land, and becoming more and
more interested I sent to New York for the best description of

432 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the country, and obtained a copy of 'Fremont's Explorations.'
On reading it the thought entered my mind that this might be
Ophir. I compared the two books. I studied them until con-
vinced that the mysterious secret of the great diamond was at
last laid bare, and I made immediate preparations to visit this
country. The first thing to be done was to copy a description
of the country and the location of the great diamond, to be
left with my family in case I should perish in the enterprise.
So here we are, and if you will join me we will eat our Christ-
mas dinner in St. Petersburg, and be far richer than ail the
crowned heads of Europe."

The old man had become excited ; his eyes glowed with an
unnatural lustre, and his whole frame was in a tremor of excite-
ment. His agitation was so great as to almost alarm me.
Finally he quieted down, and I inquired of him how in the
name of common sense we were to dispose of so immensely val-
uable a treasure. He said :

"In this way we will take it to St. Petersburg, and there, in
my own laboratory, will cut it up. I will first polish up a
diamond larger than the Kohinoor, and sell it to Queen Vic-
toria. Then we will offer one to Louis Napoleon a little larger;
and then we will go from monarch to monarch, offering to each
successive one a diamond still a little larger. Then we will offer
diamond necklaces in the same way, and we will get all the
crowned heads of the world ambitious to outstrip each other in
their display of diamonds. We will create the greatest excite-
ment in the courts of Europe ever known, and in five years we
can have all the money in the world, and mortgages on all the
kingdoms of the earth.

"What in the world will we do with such immense riches ? "
said I. " What use will it be to us ? "

"Ah!" he replied, "I have it all planned out. We will
purchase Jerusalem and all Palestine — Egypt included — from
the Grand Turk, and pay for the same in diamonds; restore

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 433

the Holy City of Jerusalem to its former splendor; rebuild
Solomon's temple, or build one of greater magnificence; recall
and gather in the Jews, and re-establish the ancient kingdom
of Judea."

" Where will we get our king ? " I modestly inquired.

"Get our king!" said he, haughtily. " He who restores a
lost kingdom should be king, should he not?"

" Oh, I beg pardon ! " said I. " Then you intend to be king
of the Jews yourself ? "

"And why not? Who would have a better' right ?" he
replied.

I was about to say: "If you attempt to play me that way,
old fellow, when we are full partners, then you will be mistaken,
because I think I would like to go into the king business
myself;" and I smoothed back my long locks and imagined
how grandly my head would look beneath a crown.

Smothering my ambitious aspirations, however, I meekly
inquired what disposition he would make of his California
partner when he got to be the greatest king on earth — the suc-
cessor of the mighty Solomon.

"Well," he replied, "you shall have the place nearest the
throne. As 1 have two beautiful daughters younger than
yourself, who will become the greatest princesses in the uni
verse, I will permit you to take your choice of the two, and
then you will be closely allied to the royal family. '

The idea then suggested itself to me as to who would take
the other, and that royal relationship might thereby be com-
plicated. I thought, of course, in restoring the ancient king-
dom the ancient laws would also be restored, and a man be
permitted to take more wives than one; that I might make a
sure thing as to my succession to the throne by taking both of
the king's b3autiful daughters. Being young and modest at

the time, I had not sufficient courage to broach the delicate

28

434 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

subject to the great embryo king of Jerusalem. So ended the
discussion.

We poured out a tin-cup of strong coffee, and I requested
the old man to look at his watch. To my great surprise it was
two hours past midnight, and we had been eleven hours dis-
cussing the question. I swallowed my cup of coffee, wished
the old man " good night," hurried away to my camp, turned
in, and was soon in dreamland. Among other foolish things I
dreamed I was at the great City of Jerusalem; that I was the
Captain of the King's Host, and I had mustered in martial
array all the Jews of Chatham street, to be reviewed by my old
friend the king, who passed along the line with an immense
diamond on his head.

I woke up feverish and excited. My comrades had breakfast
ready. A pint of strong coffee restored my nerves, and I set
myself to work to digest the old man's offer. The first con-'
elusion that I came to was that the old man was crazy; but
then his intelligent manner, dignified bearing and grave
demeanor went to ignore any such proposition. Then I
thought of that mysterious book, and of his saying he had
seen and handled the diamond. There was certainly some-
thing in it. I believed it and would join the old man and go
for the great diamond. We would purchase Palestine and
Egypt, and — what ? At this point I burst out in a laugh,
when old Patterson, who was frying some flap-jacks at the fire,
turned to me and said: "I don't see where the laugh comes in.
Can't a man flip a flap jack out of the frying pan without
being laughed at ? Suppose you try it." I thereupon took
the frying-pau and went to frying flap-jacks, all the while
deliberating on the diamond question.

I was full of the same spirit of adventure that a few years
later sent me off filibustering. I was not given to hard work,
and really expected to stumble on a magnificent fortune with-
out any particular effort on my part; but buying Jerusalem

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 435

and collecting all the Jews together was too much for me — it
was more than I could stand. I tossed a flap-jack over my
head, brought the frying pan down on the fire with a smother-
ing crash, and said: " He's as crazy as a loon, d — d if he ain't!"

"What's the matter?" said old Patterson. "Does the
flap-jacks fluster ye, or did you get smoke in your eyes ? "

"No," said I; "I just decided a question, that- was all;"
and I commenced cleaning the frying pan with a bunch of hay
that lay conveniently near. I had decided that the old man
was certainly, to say the least, a monomaniac on the diamond
question. 1 firmly resolved to at once pack up with my com-
rades, who were all ready, and set out for the mines, and let
the old man manage his great plan of corralling all the money
in the world in the best way he might. 1 would have nothing
more to do with it. At sunset on the same day we pitched
our camp at Butter's Fort, on our way to Hangtown (Placer-
vine), and by the time winter set in the old man and his two-
hundred-pound diamond had passed entirely from my memory.
* v <* « a- »

In December the El Dorado war broke out, and General
Winn called for volunteers to put down the Indians — princi-
pally the Mocosumnes — who were depredating on the miners.
We raised a battalion around Coloma, Hangtown and Weaver,
and boldly marched to the front. The detachment that I
operated with was sent out on the immigrant road toward
Carson Valley. On our first day's march we met one Indian,
who killed our commander, Lieutenant-Colonel McKinney,
which brought the whole command to a halt, and on the morn-
ing following small scouting parties were sent out in various
directions. Myself and four others went up the Carson Valley
road. We proceeded some ten miles, and made our camp to
rest and make coffee. We had scarcely halted, when not two
hundred yards from us we heard a savage yell and a gunshot,
and up the road we went in the direction indicated. In a

436' REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

minute we were upon half-a-dozen Indians, in the very act of
scalping two fallen white men. We drove them away, and
secured the two pack-mules belonging to the two fallen miners,
one of whom was found to be stone dead, shot through and
through with arrows. The other was full of arrows, but still
alive. The first man who reached him called for water. I
immediately responded with my canteen, and when in the act
of giving him the water I discovered, to my horror, that it was
my old friend of the two-hundred-pound diamond. I felt the
blood rush to my face when I saw that he recognized me.

" It is all right," said he. " You thought me crazy. I
don't, blame you. The diamond is on the black mule."

Without speaking another word the old man expired, with
an arrow in his heart.

In the meantime the mules had been secured, and we all —
except one who stood on guard — collected around the two mur-
dered men. My mind went like a steam engine, and all about
the diamond, which had turned out to be a reality.

One of the mules was packed with* camp equipage, including
a pick, axe and shovel, and it was concluded that two men
should go to work and dig a grave — one to continue on guard,
while myself and the other would take the two mules to our
camp down the road and cook some dinner.

When Hugh McKay and myself went to unpack the black
mule we found a heavy bulk of great weight, wrapped in blan-
kets and balanced in the very center of a Mexican aparejo
(pack saddle.) As we went to take it down, it came down
with a fearful weight, and Hugh said:

" Gold ! so help me God !"

As he said this he made a movement as if to open the pack-
age, but I restrained him and said :

"Hugh, that old man up there, was a friend of mine.
This is not gold. Wait till the boys are all here, and then we
will open the pack. You may take my word for it, however,

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 437

that I know what is in it, and it is of greater value than a
hundred mule loads of gold. Promise me to wait until the
boys get here, and let us go about getting dinner. I will
gratify you, however, with the information that that bundle of
blankets contains a diamond of two hundred pounds weight,
and our scouting party of five will go full partners in it."

In an hour the boys had performed the last sad rites to the
two unfortunate men, and returned to camp. Hugh and
myself had dinner ready, which the three dispatched with
great relish; Hugh and myself were too much excited to eat,
but managed to swallow a cup of coffee.

Immediately after dinner I proceeded very briefly to inform
the boys of all I knew about the old man and the great
diamond, and we at once proceeded to gratify our curiosity and
calm our excitement by beholding the great treasure that had
tempted the cupidity of the Lord Chief Jeweler of the mighty
King Solomon. Finally it rolled out in all its great beauty.
It was hectagon in form, with pointed edges. I didn't faint,
but my knees smote each other, my vision grew dim and my
mind wandered. I was recalled to consciousness by Jim
McCormick, who profanely remarked:

"Sold! Sold! Sold! It is the biggest piece of crystalized
quartz I ever saw !"

In my indignation I was about to strike him to the earth.
Three of the five comprising our party, who had been a year in
the mines, confirmed Jim's opinion. In the old man's bundle
we found many curious papers and the mysterious book, which
puzzled us all. We agreed to bury the diamond, however,
until we could learn something of the contents of the book —
for, after all. we might be mistaken. Another grave was dug
and the diamond buried. A cedar tree was cut and smoothed
off, and an appropriate head-board made and put up. We
then took up our line of march for the main camp, some ten
miles distant.

438 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

In three weeks the war was over, and we all returned to our
winter quarters. After much discussion on the matter it was
determined to send the mysterious book to the Smithsonian
Institute and ask them to inform us, if possible what it was.
We did so, and in due course of time we received the grati-
fying information that it was an old Hindostanee surveyor's
manual.

This story will not seem strange to those who were in
the mines in '49 and '50, when the country was wholly
unknown, and parties mining in a canon knew nothing of the
country beyond. Strange ideas possessed the mind as to the
theory of gold deposits, the general opinion being that there
were great golden fountain heads in the Sierras, whence the
gold came down in the mountain torrents and lodged in the
ravines and bars. Many persons disdaining ounce diggings
wasted their time searching for these imaginary fountain heads
where they expected to find inexhaustible quantities of the
precious metal. Being unfamiliar with mines and mining it
is not to be wondered that strange freaks possessed the minds
of the early gold hunters.

A great many finding those beautiful specimens of crystal-
ized quartz believed them to be diamonds, and were hard to
persuade to the contrary; still others believed the deep holes
in the river to be filled with gold. A fretful, feverish state of
mind pervaded the whole body of gold seekers which would
cause them,, on the most absurd rumors, to abandon profitable
diggings and go off with a rush in search of imaginary treasures,
the wildest of all being the Gold Lake excitement in the sum-
mer of '50.

About the month of June a* man came into a camp near
Grass Valley, and secretly informed a party of miners, of his
having found a lake high up in the Sierras where gold was as
plentiful as cobble-stones on the river bars ; that he desired to
secure the co-operation of some reliable men to get out and

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 43 9

dispose of as much gold as they needed, invest the proceeds,
which, he said, must be done with the utmost secrecy, as when
the secret got out gold would be of less value than copper or
lead, the quantities in sight being absolutely incalculable. Of
course he had little trouble in enlisting a party, as his discovery
was in perfect harmony with the fevered imaginations of the
average gold hunter. The party procured mules, and pack
saddles, with large canvas sacks in which to bring away the
gold. Notwithstanding the greatest secrecy attended their
preparations and departure, the secret leaked out, and an
' excitement followed that spread like contagion. Every mining
camp in the whole gold region caught " the Gold Lake fever,"
and there was a general rush for " the grand fountain-head,
found at last." The excitement was not confined to the
miners. It set San Francisco, Sacramento, and all the other
trading towns, wild. Mules, pack-saddles and outfits ran up to
fabulous prices ; a mule, pack-horse or a burro would sell for
a thousand dollars, and within a month's time fifty thousand
men were penetrating the caiions and scaling the mountains in
search of Gold Lake.

The original party, with the lucky discoverer, went hither
and thither, failing to-day, but " sure to find it to-morrow."
Their provisions gave out, but still, under the guidance of
their insane leader they continued their search until at last
worn out, exhausted, dispirited and famished, the party hung
-their crazy guide and abandoned the search.

So insane were the people on the existence of this Gold Lake
that thousands continued the search until the storms of winter
drove them back to the foothills and valleys. Many weru lost
by falling over precipices, and some remained until snowed in
and were never more heard of.

The poet Kercheval who was one of the searchers for the
imaginary golden fountain head, declares the truth to be
that the insane man who started the excitement and was guide

440 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

to the first party was not hung, but the prevailing opinion at
the time was in the affirmative.

The humorous Frank Ball shut up shop in San Francisco
and followed the Jack-o'-Lantern, and on his return made a
very graphic song about the wild rush for Gold Lake. I regret
my inability to reproduce it. However, while the memory of
that funny fellow is before me, I will relate a circumstance and
a song that gave Frank a fame that filled the land from our
golden shores to the Atlantic seaboard, and also filled his
pocket.

The great fire of May, '51, laid San Francisco in ashes. The
Custom House was burnt, but the treasure in the vaults, more
than a million dollars, was uninjured. A distinguished South
Carolina politician, the Hon. T. Butler King, was Collector,
and having secured a building on the corner of Kearney and
Washington streets, removed the treasure from the burnt
Custom House at the corner of Montgomery and California
streets thereto. The manner in which this transfer of the
"deposits" was made created the greatest merriment in San
Francisco (always merry, even when the bulk of her population
had to sleep on the bare ground, with the dome of heaven for a
covering). The King summoned to his assistance as many
persons as he could get, and arming them with old muskets,
cutlasses, swords and pistols, placed the money on a big wagon,
and seating himself on the summit thereof, with a half-dozen
pistols in his belt, a cutlass lying by his side, and an old flint-
lock musket in one hand and a club in the other, he bade his
treasure team to move on, and his guard to inarch. Now the
truth of the matter was, that in daylight one man with a dray
would have been just as safe in carting that coin along Mont-
gomery street as though he had been guarded by a regiment of
regulars.

The proceeding was so ridiculous that Frank took in the
whole spirit of the thing, and maie a song about it, which he

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 441

sang in the places of amusement with immense applause. He
next made a caricature, had it lithographed, and published on
sheets with his song, and sold them readily at one dollar a
copy, selling five hundred in one night. I cannot give the
caricature, but the following is the song :

"THE KING'S CAMPAIGN; OR, REMOVAL OF THE DEPOSITS."

" Come listen a minute, a song I'll sing,
Which I rather calculate will bring
Much glory, and all that sort of thing,
On the head Of our brave Collector King.

Ri tu di nu, Ri tu di nu,

Ri tu di nu di na.

"Our well-beloved President
This famous politician sent,
Though I guess we could our money have spept
Without aid from the general government.
Ri tu di nu, &c,

" In process of time this hero bold
Had collected lets of silver and gold,
Which he stuck away in a spacious hole,
Except what little his officers stole.
Ri tu di nu, &c.

" But there came a terrible fire one night,
Which put his place in an awful plight,
And 'twould have been a heart-rending sight,
If the money had not been all right.
Ri tu di nu, &c.

"Then he put his officers on the ground,
And told 'em the specie vault to surround,
And if any 'Sydney Cove' came round,
To pick up a cudgel and knock him down.
Ri tu, di nu, <&c.

" But the money had to be moved away,
So he summoned his fighting men ene day,
A.nd fixed 'em all in marching array,
Like a lot of mules hitched on to a dray.
Ri tu di nu, &c.

"Then he mounted a brick and made a speech,
And unto them this way did preach, —
•'Oh, feller-sogers, I beseech
You to keep this cash from the people's reach.
Hi tu di nu, &c.

442 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

"'For,' said lie, "tis well convinced I am,
That the people's honesty 's all a sham,
And that no one here is worth a d — n,
But the officers of Uncle Sam.'
Ri tu di nu, &c.

"Then he drew his revolver and told them to start.
But be sure to keep their eyes on the cart,
And not to be at all faint of heart,
But to tread right up, and try to look smart.
Ri tu di nu, &c.

"Then each man grasped his sword and gun,
The babies squalled and women run,
And all agreed that the King was one
Of the greatest warriors under the sun.
Ri tu di nu, Ri tu di nu,
Ri tu di nu di »a."

One night Frank was invited to a hugely aristocratic wine
party, and sang his song mid roars of merriment. After Frank
was through he was duly presented to " the King," — the first
knowledge that he had of the great man's presence. " The
King" took Frank to one side arid said : " Mr. Ball, would you
like to have a sinecure position at the Custom House?" "Why,
certainly," said Frank. " Well, you call at my office to-mor-
row, and get your commission." Frank called, took the hint
and ceased to sing " The King's Campaign."

But some of the Custom House greenies seeing that Frank
had won a fine position by singing his song, took it up to sing
themselves into a higher place, when lo ! the King cut their
heads off as though they had been so many cabbages. As sim-
ple as it may seem the song ruined King politically for life.
He was laughed out of the San Francisco Collectorship,
returned to South Carolina, where I believe he tried to be
elected to the United States Senate. His enemies sent to San
Francisco, procured the "King's Campaign," scattered copies
of it broadcast over South Carolina, and T. Butler King
was laughed out of politics. Frank Ball left Los Angeles a
couple of years ago and went to Massachusetts to comfort an
aged mother in her declining years.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 443

CHAPTER XXXVII.

A Retrospective View — A Thirty Years' Change—" The Old Man of the
Mountain " — Fraudulent Land Grants — The Limantour Land Claim —
Santa Ana's Minister Bocanegra — Attempt to Assassinate Him — Fraud
Exposed — The Justice and Wisdom of the Government Vindicated —
Conclusion.

i"N reviewing the misfortunes that have befallen this sunny
land, the burdens it has carried, its giant efforts to shake
off the "Old Man of the Mountain" who had so firmly
seated himself astride the youthful pilgrim at the early stage of
its journey that he thought he could there remain forever; in
the face of all the adverse circumstances, to see the progress
Southern California has made, the position she now occupies
strikes one with wonder and amazement. Take a bird's-eye
view of the country from San Andres (where Joaquin Murietta
in '53 made his first bloody sally) to San Diego, and what a
change ! ^

On seeming desert plains we find the most prolific fields of
grain, orchards of the most luscious fruits, vineyards laden
with commercial wealth ; and where coyotes fought over the
carcass of some unfortunate elk, antelope or deer, the merry
laugh of happy children is heard in boisterous merriment at
their relief from the monotony of the school-room. In groves
of umbrageous beauty, where pursuing Vigilantes strung up
captured bandits, now pointing Heavenward we see the spires of
Churches ; and instead of the hoarse curses of angry men, we
hear the sweet songs of praise to "Him from whom all bless-
ings flow." In the canons and most inaccessible fastnesses of

444 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the Sierras, where the robbers of early times found secure
retreat, with no enemy near to make thorn afraid, unless, per-
chance, the grizzly bear, we now find the happy " bee man,"
with his millions of co-workers, collecting their tribute from
the sweets of the floral kingdom. Over mountains where toiled
the galled and jaded pack-mule, under the lash of the cruel
arriero, now thunders the iron horse, with emphatic admo-
nitions that the age of barbarism has gone by forever, and that
man must bow his haughty neck to the mandates of civiliza-
tion, or must go hence and further on.

San Diego of yore, with nothing but bailes, fandangos, bull-
fights, monte, and John Phoenix gentlemen, to amuse her —
slept in the sleepy hollow of forgetful ness, and pined for noth-
ing but RAILROAD — has found the full fruition of her dreams,
and has become a city in reality, and not one on paper and of
expectations.

Where thirty years ago the vaquero corraled his lowing herds
now reigns in regal splendor San Bernardino, the Southern
Sierra Queen. Bakersfield, the beautiful, now rears her spires
from the plain where three decades past roamed in undisputed
ownership the subjects of the Tulare King. San Luis Obispo
that in '53 was powerless to pursue a halt-dozen bandits who
had with impunity murdered her defenseless people, is now
rich, powerful and progressive. Santa Barbara, what shall I
say of this old place of Spanish aristocracy, that in '53 allowed
Jack Powers to ride rough-shod over her ? That, now she is
the Southern coast beauty, rich, prosperous and happy, and
in her strength could repel the assaults of an army or an
armada. The very spot where the rich Ranchero, Don Jose
Sepulveda, gave the grand rodea twenty-eight years ago is now
the centre of the most progressive and wealthy region on the
Pacific coast, surrounded by those prosperous towns, Anaheim,
Santa Ana, Orange, Westminster, Tustin, and the old San
Juan Capistrano, Norwalk and Downey. On the smooth plain

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 445

where Bill pursued and captured Lanfranco's phantom, farm-
houses, fields and orchards in rural beauty kiss the rising sun.
At the place where the lordly Viejo Lugo rested in his declin-
ing years we now find the moral village of Compton; and near
by, where on the first of January, 1853, the desperado, Ricardo
TJrives, gave the author his New Year's breakfast, we find
a Methodist camp-meeting ground. Of Los ANGELES! what
shall we say of thee, imperious beauty ? Shall we say that the
dream of thy founder, Navarro, has in thee been realized ?
No ! not yet; but his dream is rapidly nearing a complete
realization. Los Angeles does not yet rival Granada of old,
neither cloth her valley equal the famous Vega. The Moors
were four hundred years in rearing to her sublime grandeur their
cherished western capital and in making their beautiful Vega
the world's Eden.

With our railroads, our electricity, our steam power and our
other improvements-, we ought to accomplish in fifty years as
much as did the Moors in their four hundred, and we may
safely count that within the lives of the present generation the
dream of Navarro will have been fully realized. What shall I
say of the pioneers of thirty jears ago? This: — That few are
left. Many having accumulated 'a sufficiency of gold returned
to former homes, others who had failed in their expectations,
went further on to new and more promising fields of adventure
and have disappeared ; still others having failed, failed and
failed, and again failed, are broken in spirit and only await the
summons to that unknown land where gold is not holden to be
the only standard of excellence ; while still more — the many,
alas, too many ! — having been too weak to withstand the dissi-
pations and temptations of the fast times, became the prey of'
the fell destroyer, and are now as though they had never been.
And yet of the pioneers, many have passed through the fiery
ordeal of early times, and, like pure diamonds, have come out
with increased brilliancy, and now stand as a corporals guard

446 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

over the graves of the grand army of Argonauts that has been
swept away. A parting word to those who are left. Let us dis-
card past differences, jealousies and dislikes, and knowing each
other so well, close our eyes to mutual faults, forget past
differences, and standing together as brothers, obey the behest
of the Master and "LovE ONE ANOTHER."

The California Spaniard has been more unfortunate, if any-
thing, than the average Argonaut, having as heretofore re-
marked, lost his land and his general wealth. For this he has
blamed the Government of the United States, and feels that
the Government has been false to the treaty of Guadaloupe
Hidalgo, and has virtually confiscated his land. With the
highest possible esteem for the California Spaniard, for his
bravery, patriotism and superlative goodness of heart, his
vivacity, innate talent and Christian virtue, I beg to radically
differ with him and tell him that he is mistaken, ancl, that the
United States Government is not to blame for his misfortunes.
The following well written complaint I clipped years ago from
one of our papers, by whom written I never knew. As it
reflects the general spirit of the people in their land mis-
fortunes, I give it, and will then give my opinion thereon:

"Now these were early days; we were all young, full of
vigor and enterprise, ready to undertake anything regardless of
the dangers or fatigue attending it. There was an irresistible
charm in our society of these days. There was no great con-
centrated wealth; no pauperism; taxation was nominal, and
the Church, under the Mission Fathers, accustomed to dis-
pense charity instead of receiving it; there were no exactions in
this line. The land from Mount Shasta to the monument
established by Weller on the southern boundary, was owned by
the native Californians. They were a simple but dignified
people, and reserved almost to stoicism.

" The young adventurers were of the very best of the American
and European race, well educated and accustomed to good

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 447

society. It did not take long to gain entree, and when they
did, the hospitality extended to them was unbounded. Parties
and balls were a constant occurrence, attended by the citizens
of all ages, so that great propriety and genteel demeanor char-
acterized these happy reunions.

" About this time was established the United States Land
Commission, where all the good people that we found here
were compelled to come forward and show cause why they
should not be dispossessed of their broad acres and cattle on a
thousand hills.

" Well, . then their trouble commenced. Lawyers had to
be feed, cattle to be sold to pay fees. And when the Com-
mission decided the land was theirs by grant and by treaty
stipulations, well, then, they drew a long breath and said,
1 thank God; Ave are safe.' But by and by there was a notice
served upon them, that, their cases were all appealed to the
District Court of the United States. Then lawyers had to be
hunted up again, more cattle sold, and when the cattle gave
out they had to divide the land with, the lawyer, or mortgage
the premises. Well, after years, the District Court decided
'that they owned the land by valid grants and treaty stipula-
tions. So our poor Californians drew another long breath, and
re-uttered another prayer to God in thanks for their second
deliverance. But again they are notified that the United States
District Attorney has taken an appeal to the United States
Supreme Court. More lawyers, more sales of cattle, more sub-
division of the land with the lawyers, and more mortgaging.
Well, they have to fight in Washington, and when they were
so fortunate as to get a favorable decision from that tribunal,
or a dismissal by the Attorney-General, they are informed that
a patent must be procured. In order to do this the Surveyor-
General must segregate the land from the supposed public
domain. There is no appropriations made for surveys of
private land claims, so they have to furnish the coin. The

448 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

survey is made. The Commissioner of the General Land Office
rejects, then there is another appeal to the Secretary of the
Interior."

" More lawyers, more fees, more sub-divisions. The learned
Secretary rejects the survey and orders a new one. The new
one goes hack, a patent issues, signed by the President of the
United States, with the great seal of the nation. It is filed in
the proper department. Some other fellow files objections to
the patent. The Commissioner, of his own volition, retracts
it, and writes across its face, 'cancelled/ More sending back,
more laws passed governing surveys of private land claims in
California, more publications and more filing of surveys and
plats, until finally the original possessor does not own one inch
of his patrimony, the squatters and the lawyers and the Cali-
fornia interest having used him up.

" If Lucifer had designed the l^gal confiscation of the Cali-
fornians' estates, it could not have been more ingeniously accom-
plished. Cromwell's confiscation in Ireland was bold, manly,
cruel and harsh. It did not pretend anything but what it
was — the deprivation of the Irish of their estates for religious
and political reasons.

" He had examples set him in Spain, France and Austria,
and he followed them with a vengeance. Under the sneaking
color of law the poor Californians, in the nineteenth century,
by the great, the magnanimous, the just and the mild citizen-
loving Republic, were robbed of estates worth more millions by
ten than all Cromwell's confiscations. It is not ended ; these
cases are yet unsettled. Senator Benton, in his seat in the
United States Senate, twenty-six years ago, foretold the hard-
ship and outrage of this Bill of 1851, to settle private land
claims in California.

v " If the title of the Act read, 'An Act entitled an Act to
confiscate the private lands belonging to the inhabitants of

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 449

California/ nobody would be deceived, and the authors would
have the merit of candor and frankness.

" The Star was here shining upon the introduction of this
outrage ; it is still looking upon its wholesale destructive
effects.

" We might be permitted to paraphrase the lines of Camp-
bell, and say :

' Oh! mighty Heaven, ere justice found a grave,
Why slept thy sword, Omnipotent to save? ' "

As heretofore written the Californian was so full-handed and
happy that he gave no heed to the sore foot and the rainy day,
and when he needed money it was more convenient to go to
the money-lender than to deny himself imaginary necessities,
and thus he gave "the old man of the mountain/'" the usurer,
Shakspeare's Shylock, an easy seat astride his neck and was
never able to shake him off.

The California Spaniard was so over-generous that he would
thus raise money for his friend in sums great or small, accord-
ing to his ability. He knew not the value of money or the
crushing power of compound interest ; ten per cent and three
per cent per -month interest compounding monthly had no
terrors for him, because he knew not of its consuming force.
Then came a year or two of drought, which found him in debt.
His cattle were swept away and the Basque sheep herder came
in and rented his land, but his rental would not pay his inter-
est. Taxes, always high, increased with his increasing inability
to pay. He could not sell his land because of his imperfect
title and his mortgage, and all that was said about his difficult
and expensive litigation was in measure true. Money he must
have and his only recourse was "the old man -of the moun-
tain/' with his tightening grasp. Is it to be wondered at that
the poor California Spaniard, wholly ignorant in the^ways of the

world and the money-lender, was ground to powder as between
29

450 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

the nether stones of a mill. But still the Government of the
United States was not to Name, and I will now endeavor to
show exactly wherein the blame should lie and who should
bear it.

Now for a scrap of warlike history. In 1846 Don Pio Pico,
a man of great ability, was Governor. He was of peculiar
hostility to the United States aggression, and when he found
that California was sure to fall into the hands of the American,
and after California had actually fallen, the Governor em-
ployed all the clerical force of the country to fill out grants as
fast as he could sign them, granting away in the name of the
Mexican Sovereignty, to his kindred and friends all the land
worth the having, from Shasta to the monument erected by
Weller to mark the line between the United States and
Mexico.- Having thus granted all the land in California the
Governor hied himself to Mexico to procure ante-confirma-
tions of his ante-dated grants of the gringo conquest. Unfor-
tunately for the Governor and his grantees a batch of this
handiwork while on its way to Mexico fell into the hands of
the gringos and was sent as a curiosity to the Government at
Washington, which becoming thus apprized of this mammoth
land swindle, after due consideration enacted the law of 1851
" for the settlement of private land claims in California." By
this measure the Government seemed to feel that the con-
querors have rights which the vanquished ought to respect,
and to distinguish the bona fide from the fraudulent California
land grant, subjected them all to a rigid judicial investigation,
and those that were good were confirmed and patented to their
owner?, and those that were fraudulent were rejected.

Now, let me ask all true men of the Spanish- American race,
where the blame should 'rest, if any there were ? Surely not
on the Government, and the able writer whose article I have-
reproduced argued from passion and not fr< in the truths of
history.

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 451

Here is another batch of land-claims history, and the drama-
tis per sonce, actors therein: BanCTOlt Library

In 1843, Santa Ana was President of Mexico. Under him
Manuel Bocanegra was Minister of Exterior Relations, etc.,
equivalent to our Secretary of Interior. At the same time
General Manuel Micheltorena was Governor of California.
Manuel Jimeno was Departmental Secretary, and Manuel
Castafiares was Administrator of Customs at Monterey. About
the same time there was a Frenchman on the coast as a trader
and smuggler, a former gunsmith of the City of Mexico named
Jose Y. Limantour. In 1851 this Limantour appeared in San
Francisco and presented to the United States Land Commis-
sioner for confirmation his claims for one hundred and thirty
four leagues of the best and most valuable lands in California.
Also, for the Farallones Islands, the islands of Yerba Buena,
Alcatraz, Point Tiburon, and four leagues of land taking in
the City of San Francisco, with all its houses, churches, prisons,
markets, public buildings, streets and wharves. The Land
Commission rejected Limantour's claim for the one hundred
and thirty-four leagues, but confirmed all the others, and from
their decree of confirmation the Government appealed to the
United States District Court of California, Hon. Ogden Hoff-
man, Judge; Pierre Delia Torre, United States Attorney, and
Edwin M. Stanton appearing for the Government.

In this' great trial, which took place in San Francisco in
1857, was exposed the most ingenious, well-digested and
rascally conspiracy for gobbling up not only what was left of
the public domain of California, but every important island and
point of land in and around the harbor of San Francisco,
necessary to the Government as military defences, and
the city of San Francisco itself, as before stated. This
trial occupied the Court for months, and it was therein
proved, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Limantour came
from the City of Mexico in '51, laden down with land

452 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

grants, all nicely fixed up, and made to appear to gringo vision
in all respects as the bona fide grants made to the honest and
bona fide settlers theretofore on the public domain of Mexican
California. Unfortunately for the conspirators and their
claims, Edwin M. Stanton was not a gringo, neither was
Ogden Hoffman, and the fraud was so laid bare that the gang
of conspirators were fain to flee the country to escape the
punishment due [their crimes. The claims were rejected and
no appeal was ever taken to the Supreme Court, of the United
States.

These signed, sealed and delivered laud grants, brought from
Mexico by Limantour, were left blank to be filled in wherever
a good scope of country could be found to scoop, the biggest
one in extent being eighty-five leagues of redwood timber in
Mendocino county, and one of the lesser was six square leagues
at Cahuenga, in Los Angeles county.

To prove these claims a great many dignitaries came from
the City of Mexico, including Santa Ana's ex-Secretary, Boca-
negra, who swore to the absolute genuineness of Limantour's
claims, and Manuel Jimeno and Castafiares to prove the genuine-
ness of Michel torena's signature. Many of the dignitaries of
California, including Governor Pio Pico, were witnesses to
prove the regularity of the proceedings in respect to Liman-
tour's grants; all to no purpose. The fraud was made so ap-
parent that there could not exist a reasonable doubt in the
minds of any reasonable person, and doubtless were convincing
to the conspirators themselves. It was perfectly astonishing to
see the minuteness of proof produced. For instance, to -im-
peach Castanares, who testified that in February, 1843,
he had met Limantour in the City of Mexico, who handed
him some documents from California; the whereabouts of
Limantour was proved during the month of January preceding
the March following, and until July, where he was on each
and every day; the day he was at Guadalajara, when he arrived

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 453

at and departed from Colima, the time he remained at Tepic,
when he was at Mazatlan, when on the ocean, and when at
Monterey; all of which proved conclusively that Limantour
could not have been at the City of Mexico at the time Cas-
tanares swore he met him and received the California dis-
patches from Michel torena. When this trial was going on the
author occupied a room on the first floor of the popular and
venerated Union Hotel, on the corner of Kearny and Merchant
streets, San Francisco. The Limantour crowd was there, in-
cluding Santa Ana's ex-Secretary, Manuel Bocanegra. One
morning at about 4 o'clock a tremendous hullabaloo was raised.
Cries of Police ! Armas ! Assassins ! Fuego ! Sin Verguenza !
and the devil seemed to be turned loose among the Mexican
lodgers at the Union. Police headquarters adjoined the
Union and by the time I was half dressed and in the hall, the
place was full of police, and we were soon able to understand
that a vile, cold-blooded and cowardly attempt had been made
to assassinate "His Excellency, Don Manuel Bocanegra;'''
that he had retired without fastening his door; that the
assassin had entered and had driven his blade through blan-
kets, sheets and mattress and had hastily fled, supposing of
course he had finished up the Mexican ex-Secretary, who had in
person witnessed the grants of Limantour and attached the nopal
seal thereto, and had come all the way from the City of Mexico
to give his testimony thereon and thereof and thereto concern-
ing, and so forth, and so on. And now the minions of the
Government had attempted to get him out of the way in order
that poor Limantour might be defrauded out of his ownership
to San Francisco and all else thereabout worth the having, or
the looking after. This attempt upon the life of this respec-
table witness produced a most profound sensation, but only
among Liman tour's adherents and only for a day or two, as the
matter being placed in the hands of the detectives in less than
a day they found out where the assassin's blade had been pur-

454 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

chased, and that the vendee thereof was none other than the
body servant of the illustrious Bocanegra himself, who being in
interest with Limantour had made this silly diversion, antic-
ipating great gain and sympathy thereby in making it seem that
the Government had gone into the business of procuring the
assassination of witnesses against it. It was the silliest thing
ever attempted in America and deceived no one, not even for a
minute. How these fellows got away from San Francisco
without arrest and prosecution, I could never understand; yet
they did.

The article quoted in this chapter, as I said before, reflected
the general spirit of the country, and was not in harmony with
the truth. The argument of the grant holder was that under
treaty stipulations the Government should have confirmed at
one fell swoop all the land claims in California, from the
dome of Shasta to the border of Mexico. Let this legal Ranger
suggest that, had the Government done this, there would not
have been land enough in all California, Oregon and Ne-
vada to have filled those grants. For instance, I know of a
citizen of Los Angeles who was never known to have an honest
dollar, or an acre, who attempted to set up a claim to three
hundred leagues in and around, and about and beyond the
Soledad Pass. I think there were about twelve hundred
ranchos in California ranging in size from one to eleven leagues.
Most of the claimants were honest in the presentation of their
claims; yet many of them, when examined and surveyed, were
found to be greatly in excess of their legitimate and honest rights;
and to sum up this business, had not the Government of the
United States subjected all these California land claims to the
most rigid legal scrutiny, then the Government of the United
States would have been highly remiss in its duty to its own cit-
izens who purchased California with their most precious blood
and treasure; and the California Spaniard, we are permitted to
hope, will not let the fires of resentment be fed on such non-

REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER. 455

sensical drivel as that quoted, but will agree with the author,
that by the Government he has been treated exactly as it has
treated any other citizen, and if anyone is to blame for the dif-
ficulties he encountered in procuring confirmation to his land,
then let it rest upon the shoulders of those high Mexican
dignitaries who, after California became the property of the
United States by conquest and purchase, attempted in Mexico
to cheat the Government out of its honestly acquired rights.

There is not a squatter in all California that ever got one
acre of an honest Mexican grant, unless he purchased and paid
for it; while the truth is that squatters, or more properly
speaking, American settlers on the public domain, were de-
frauded, by millions of acres of the public domain having been
taken in by the fraudulent surveys of otherwise honest Mexican
land claims; and this being true we will consign the subject to
the grave of forgetfulness; with still a parting word to the
young men of Spanish blood, and that is: Pine not over
grandeur gone, of misfortunes past. The country ,has been
unfortunate; the American pioneers also have been. We have
all started on a new race of progress, and whenever you have
entered the lists with the gringo, you have proved yourself at
least his equal. In the law, in politics, in science, in agricul-
ture, and in all the arts progressive you have shown that the
blood of the «Cavalier manifests itself, and shows whence you
came. Your Pacheco, by well directed effort became Governor
of his native land, and now has a seat in our National councils;
your Estudillo and your Coronel became Treasurers of State;
your Sepulveda became one of the highest Judges in the land,
with aims still higher; your Del Valle is the pride of the coun-
try, honored by all. We opine that these eminent men did not
cry over grandeur gone, but that they buckled on the sword of
the new dispensation, and taking their stand in the ranks of
American progression resolved to carve their way onward and
upward. Have they succeeded ? They have. Then, mucha-

456 REMINISCENCES OF A RANGER.

chos, emulate their virtues, their determined efforts, their in-
dustry, and let your own brave hearts be your future fortune.
Reader, this book of reminiscences is drawing to a close. It
has been written in the author's own way. I know that many
of the pioneers will find fault with it. One will say to another:
" Why didn't he tell about that great fight wherein this, that
or the other was killed?" The other responds, "And he
didn't say a word about this one, that one and forty others
having been hung."

The author repeats again that he had no desire to write of
things of an unpleasant or horrible character, and those things
which he was bound to relate in order to bring out the salient
points in our pioneer history he did with a great degree of re-
luctance, and then avoided details, which if given, and all should
have been told, forty years of labor would not have sufficed
therefor. Most of the pioneer characters mentioned herein
have disappeared, most of whom have crossed the line.

In an early chapter mention was made of Lewis C. Granger
and his encounter with the fighting Federal dignitary at
Madame Barriere's. To have there dropped Mr. Granger
would have been wrong, he having been one of the ablest and
best of our pioneer lawyers, and one of the most generous of
men, and withal a most classical scholar. I do think that
Lewis 0. Granger would work harder, go farther and experience
more pleasure in serving a friend and in doing an act of gen-
erosity than any man I ever knew. He left here and went to
Butte county in '57, where he now resides, surrounded by a
numerous family, children and grandchildren. I take great
pleasure in paying this humble tribute to his general worth
and great goodness of heart.

William C. Getman, a Lieutenant of the Ranger Company.
\v,is from Fort Plain, New York, was a soldier in the war with
Mexico, and was struck and most severely wounded with a
grape-shot in storming the Bolen Gate at the City of Mexico.

KEM1NISCENCES OF A RANGER. 457

A most gallant and noble fellow. In '58 he was Sherift of Los
Angeles county, and was killed by a crazy man. He sleeps in
Fort Hill cemetery.

Myron Norton, so frequently mentioned, was a member of
the Constitutional Convention of '49, was on the Judiciary
Committee, and afterward Judge of the Superior Court of San
Francisco, a most able man, now on the down grade of life,
retired from business, contented and happy. He used to ride
with the Rangers.

Bill, or Gillermo Pacha, when not on service at the United
States Surveyor General's Office, or in the field, may be seen
on our fashionable streets, to all appearances as great a ladies'
man as thirty years ago.

John 0. Wheeler is now Clerk of the Los Angeles branch of
the Supreme Court of California.

The surviving members of the Ranger Company have been
heretofore properly accounted for. Captain Hope sleeps in an
unmarked grave in Fort Hill cemetery. He also was a vet-
eran of the Mexican war.

Reader! We have ridden together on a pretty long cam-
paign. We have returned to our barracks. Our mustangs
are tired; our canteens are empty; our arms, saddles, bridles
and spurs are hung up for the night. The bugle has sounded
the " tattoo." We are fatigued and sleepy. Now we hear the
signal to "extinguish lights;" and

QUIET REIGNS SUPREME!